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AFTER THE NINTH 
HOUR. 

A PICTURE OF THE DAWN OF 
THE CHRISTIAN ERA. 




TVVCUvue-. Rf^MONIvAUR 


St. I/Ouis, Mo. 1906. 


Published by B. HERDER, 
x7 South Broadway, 


LIBRARY 9f 00 NSRESS 
Two Copies Received 


DEC 28 1906 


/r Copyright Entry 

CLASS /\ XXcf,, No. 

/ (o.i'OcT^' 

COPY B. 



<3 

'N 

O' 


- BECKTOLD— 

PRINTING AND BOOK MFG. CO. 
ST. LOUIS, MO. 



Copyright^ igo6, by Joseph Gummersbach. 


acH- "iTh/CU/z, 




CONTENTS. 

Page 

Chapter I. 

Vanquished by Love . . 

5 

( ( 

11. 

Christianity and Paganism 

19 

< i 

III. 

Helos and Mylenes . . 

33 

i < 

IV. 

To die for Him .... 

46 

i ( 

V. 

“Do the gods come back?’ ’ 

60 

( < 

VI. 

“ Kt V erbum Ca^/f ac^m 

est ...... 76 


VII. 

The Message of Glaucus 

89 

i i 

VIII. 

The Procession .... 

103 


IX. 

The Death of Helos . . 

116 

i i 

X. 

Priestcraft 

128 

i i 

XI. 

“Thou wilt have mercy’’ 

141 

i i 

XII. 

Hiera 

155 

i i 

XIII. 

Caligula 

171 

i i 

.XIV. 

“I believe” . . . ; . 

185 




After the Ninth Hour. 


CHAPTER I. 

Vanquished by Love. 

In the autumn of the year 37, under the 
threatenings of the first persecution, Gama- 
liel, the famous rabbi, his sister, Susanna, 
and some of their servants left Jerusalem. 
In order to reach Egypt, it was necessary 
for the caravan to cross the dreary desert of 
Arabia. The vast arid plain spread out in 
its immensity under the dazzling rays of the 
burning sun ; days followed days, glowing 
and magnificent in those mournful solitudes. 
Little by little, lulled by the slow pace and 
rolling gait of their dromedaries and dazed 
by the glittering of the dead sand, the 
travellers half slept, dreaming through the 
endless horizons which ever receded before 
them. Instinctively, they spoke not, so 
strange would words have sounded in that 

(5) 


6 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


eternal silence. But this silence, never- 
theless, was sweet and desirable to them. 
In it and by it they were impressed more 
vividly with the remembrance of the divine 
drama which had so changed and subverted 
their lives. Five years had elapsed without 
dimming within them the Great Image. 
The chaste beauty of Susanna had taken on 
a more spirituelle^ a more ethereal appear- 
ance in consequence of the habit of interior 
contemplation acquired during the interval. 
Looking upon her with ineffable tenderness, 
Christ had consecrated her as a queen and 
protected her as He would a child. Spon- 
taneously, under the influence of this con- 
secration and protection, an intense love 
for the poor and suffering arose within her; 
her former life of luxury was almost instant- 
ly changed into one of almsgiving amongst 
her brethren of Jerusalem, that primitive 
community of one heart and one soul. 
Without repining she abandoned all things 
vain and fleeting. What were the petty 
troubles of this world to that heart that had 
so deeply felt the death of Christ ? Ah ! 
that Ninth Hour. The very hour of the 


VANQUISHED BY DOVE. 7 

death of the lyord ! The hour of the super- 
human ecstasy and sorrow which now ruled 
the destinies of the world ! Susanna was 
always living it over again, whether in the 
joyful brightness of the days, or in the mel- 
ancholy twilight of the evenings, amidst 
the noise and tumult of the streets of Jeru- 
salem, or in the peace and quietude of her 
own abode. What to her was exile? 
Everything and everywhere, to her and for 
her, now. He only was. 

For Gamaliel, the Divine Light had 
shone a little later. The great Rabbi 
respected the belief and tears of his sister 
without sharing in them. He had welcomed 
her when she returned from Calvary, with 
a compassionate tenderness. He had con- 
templated, with fear and trembling, the 
rending of the veil of the Holy of Holies in 
the temple by an invisible hand, but his 
ancient faith had not been shaken, nor the 
shroud of Pharisaic pride removed from his 
soul. Oh ! those struggles between the 
mind that surrenders and the passion that 
resists ! He had experienced all these bitter 
conflicts, but with God’s assistance, had 


8 


AFTKR THK ninth HOUR, 


overcome all obstacles, and emerged from 
them victorious. On the morning of the 
third day, while Gamaliel, in a pensive 
mood , walked outside the walls of J erusalem , 
he had seen passing before him the Crucified 
of the third hour, living, radiant and glori- 
ous. The old Rabbi, overcome by the super- 
natural power of the wonderful miracle, 
was drawn toward Him, and moved to the 
very depths of his soul, he completely sur- 
rendered himself to the Tord, who said 
“Come, it is I.” 

Now, rocked by the slow-moving drome- 
daries, Gamaliel and Susanna, lived again 
in memory those sad past days — their 
meeting with the Apostles, the warm wel- 
come of Peter, their baptism in the water 
and spirit. And forever and always, in the 
joy of their souls, they heard the last words 
of Christ on ascending to His Father, “You 
shall be my witnesses. ’ ’ A witness Gamaliel 
had already been, by his masterly defense 
of the Apostles before the Sanhedrim, when, 
vanquished by his brilliant plea, the Scribes 
and Ancients were unwillingly compelled 
to release those public disturbers. But a 


VANQUISHED BY LOVE. 


9 


bloody calamity soon followed, which made 
this triumph a short-lived one, and it was 
the self-same Gamaliel who had, with pious 
sorrow, received in his arms the dead body 
of Stephen and had buried it under the 
palm trees in his villa of Chinrereth. 

In the bitterness of his heart, Gamaliel 
remembered Saul of Tarsus, his beloved 
disciple, caring for the clothes of those who 
stoned the martyr and furiously exciting 
them against the new-born Church. Had 
he ever taught him hatred? In sanguine 
natures, was zeal always manifested by a 
cruel intolerance? And in sowing good seed, 
were they always to reap tares? Because of 
the bigoted activity of Saul, a violent per- 
secution had suddenly arisen against the 
Christians, and, in leaving Jerusalem and 
accepting the invitation of Philo, Gamaliel 
had perhaps been actuated by the desire of 
saving Saul of Tarsus from the odious deed 
of outlawing his old master. 

Both Gamaliel and Susanna had desired 
to go by the longest way, so as to make the 
whole pilgrimage in the footsteps of their 
forefathers. The little caravan went down 


lO 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


through the desolate wilderness of Pharan, 
towards the dread Mt. Sinai, where the 
Lord had spoken to Moses from the clouds 
and lightning. Already the sacred mount 
was seen arising from afar, entirely devoid 
of trees and verdure, with its red-granite 
sides in profile reflecting a dark mass against 
the blue sky, and resembling in appearance 
a frightful human giant. 

The travellers went forward, hoping to 
camp near the mount that night, but they 
had been preceded. At the foot of one of 
the spurs, which on three sides of the 
mountain rise to dizzy heights, a tent was 
set. On approaching it, Gamaliel recog- 
nized with amazement, standing at the 
entrance, the man who had ravaged the 
Church of Jerusalem, the enemy and per- 
secutor of Jesus of Nazareth, his own dis- 
ciple; in fine, Saul of Tarsus! .... Could 
an3d;hing stranger and more inexplicable 
have happened ? Saul in the wilderness I 
Saul near Sinai ! Gamaliel was almost cer- 
tain that he was the victim of an hallucina- 
tion. But the recognition was mutual. 
Immediately Saul ran towards his master 


VANQUISHED BY LOVE. 


II 


and stooping kissed the hem of his mantle. 
When he rose again to his feet, Gamaliel 
instantly noticed that the animated face of 
his once favorite pupil was deeply furrowed 
by tears. In silent sympathy, he paused, 
rooted to the spot, his emotion being so great, 
that for a time he was rendered speechless. 

“Thou knowest, thou knowest” cried 
Paul, in anguish, “that I have persecuted 
the Church of God, that I have brought 
death and destruction upon her, and that I 
was noted above others for my ardent zeal 
in the religion of my fathers.” 

“I know it” answered Gamaliel. 

“But when The One, who delivered me 
from my mother’s womb” continued Paul 
“had called to me in His grace, and was 
pleased to reveal to me His Son, that I 
might preach Him before the nations, at 
once, without listening to the voice of flesh 
and blood, without returning to Jerusalem to 
confer with those who were Apostles before 
me, I came to Arabia.” 

“God has thus called thee, my son” 
exclaimed Gamaliel ; “He has changed thy 
darkness into a wonderful light. Now, 


12 


AFTKR the ninth HOUR. 


thou art a disciple of Christ ! May the smile 
of His approval beam upon thee and thy 
past errors be buried in oblivion. ’ ’ 

“I was a persecutor, a blasphemer — yes, 
too truly an enemy of Christ” humbly re- 
plied Paul, “but God granted me His mercy 
and forgiveness, because I performed these 
evils from ignorance and want of faith. I 
have received these blessings and have 
thus become the first example of His divine 
patience. ’ ’ 

“But how did he overthrow thy prejudice 
and thy hatred? How did he cause thy 
barren soul to bloom as a flower ? It is no 
more thy master who questions thee, but 
thy father and brother, for I have become 
a priest of Christ Jesus . . . His Priest.” 

Mount Sinai aflame in the red glow of 
the setting sun, now witnessed words more 
astounding than those of Moses speaking 
to Jehovah. 

“Thou knowest that in a thousand ways 
I thought to strive against Jesus of Naza- 
reth,” resumed Paul, “and these are the 
results I have accomplished in Jerusalem : 
I cast into prison, having received the power 


VANQUISHED BY UOVE. 1 3 

from the high priest, a great number of the 
saints, and when they were tried, I joined 
in sentencing them to death.” 

For a long time he continued to accuse 
himself, and as afterward in the presence of 
Aretas, he related his miraculous conversion 
in detail, laying more loving stress on the 
voice which prostrated him on the road to 
Damascus and its wonderful results in him. 

“And I asked : Who art thou O Ford!” 
added he, when ending, “and the Ford 
answered” “I am Jesus whom thou per- 
secutest ! ’ ’ 

“His words” pensively murmured Gama- 
liel, “Thou hast heard his words I Oh I the 
days when I did not yet believe, when hid- 
den behind a pillar of the temple, I listened 
to Him, only for the joy of hearing Him I 
As to thee, thou never hadst wished to 
know Him; thou didst not know anything 
about Him. And thou sayest that thou 
didst not go to see our brethren ? And thou 
earnest directly here? Who then taught 
thee what thou knowest about Him? Did 
the Ford grant thee the grace to teach thee 
Himself? Dost thou know His gospel? Dost 
thou know His Holy Eucharist I” 


14 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


“The gospel of Christ I learned not from 
any man, but from the revelation of Jesus 
Christ” answered Paul. “And I have re- 
ceived of the Lord that which he instituted 
on the night of His betrayal, when taking 
bread. He gave thanks and broke it, saying 
‘Take ye and eat, this is my body, which 
is delivered for you. This do in commem- 
oration of Me.’ ” 

Susanna listened eagerly. The words of 
Saul made more vivid the tragic events 
ever present in her memory. When, after 
the resurrection, Christ had announced His 
return to His Father, in her great sorrow, 
she had fainted and He had not consoled 
her, He whose Presence alone could dissi- 
pate all human anguish. Perhaps, He had 
not comforted her, because, in spirit she 
had rebelled against His going. She re- 
membered, as more terrible than death, the 
emptiness of grief which oppressed her on 
that gloomy night of sorrow, until Mary, 
took her to the house of John. She remem- 
bered, also, having whispered in her over- 
whelming sadness, over and over again, the 
self-same words — poor, doubting, childish 


VANQUISHED BY DOVE. 1 5 

words “We shall never see Him again.” 
Then from the very lips of the Virgin her- 
self, she had learned that the One who was 
gone, was ever with them; that although 
He was in Heaven, He came down at every 
call of His priests and entered the heart of 
the humblest being who desired Him. Oh! 
that supreme invitation extended to all who 
believed; that revelation of the Eucharist 
in the words from the heart of the Virgin 1 
What a divine answer to her lament I It 
was then, kneeling down near the purest of 
womanhood, trembling in holy contempla- 
tion of the great blessing vouchsafed to her, 
Susanna received the body of Christ from 
the hands of John. In this union, more 
intimate than any earthly one, more pro- 
found than that of which the boldest can 
dream, Susanna now understood, how fool- 
ish is man, when he thinks it possible to 
exhaust the abyss of the loving heart of 
Christ .... 

“We are not as we were” continued Saul 
of Tarsus, “we are now new beings. In 
life, or death, we belong to Christ. We 
are debtors to all nations, both to the civil- 


1 6 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

ized and the barbarous, both to the wise 
and the unwise. God has revealed to me 
the mystery that the Gentiles are called as 
well as the Jews. It is He, who has made 
these peoples one, breaking down, with His 
own sacred body, the barriers of reparation. ’ ’ 
“It is true,” exclaimed Gamaliel, “royal 
ways open before us, I go to Alexandria, to 
meet the Greek world, the very flower of 
human intelligence. There, the refined of 
the refined, fill the schools and listen to 
those who promise new things. I long to 
appeal to them as Philo does, rewarding 
their passionate efforts at eloquence and 
ending their quest for the beautiful. May 
our faith shine in those souls ! ’ ’ 

“Every man hath his proper gift from 
God and I thank Him for the riches of 
speech and knowledge thou hast received 
from Him,” answered Paul with affectionate 
admiration. “The Jews require a sign, 
the Gentiles seek wisdom, but we preach 
Christ crucified; unto the Jews a stumbling- 
block, and unto the Gentiles, foolishness, 
but the power and wisdom of God, unto 
those who are called, both Jews and Gen- 


VANQUISHED BY EOVE. 1 7 

tiles. We are ambassadors of Christ and it 
is He who speaks through our lips. ’ ’ 

The last rays of the sun melted away and 
died out in a dark purple. Mount Sinai 
arose fantastically, a mass of darkness in 
that oriental sky, so magnificent and so 
pure. Already the stars gave forth their 
white light, calm and cold upon the arid 
soil, over those men lost in the depths of 
the desert and fondly dreaming of conquer- 
ing the world. 

Paul was speaking with a voice ardent 
and low : “As to me, I now count as loss, 
all those things, which hitherto I regarded 
as gain. Yea, more, I consider all things 
as loss, beside the excellency of the know- 
ledge of Christ Jesus, my Tord, for whom 
I have suffered the loss of all things, but 
count them as less than nothing that I may 
win Christ.” 

“And what is there for us to do?” asked 
Susanna, moved by his words. “What can 
we women do? You can preach, you can 

discuss publicly ” 

“Though I speak with the tongue of man 
and of angels, and have not charity, it 
profiteth me nothing” interrupted Paul. 

2 


1 8 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

“Will charity make them believe?” re- 
turned Susanna. “I have seen Him dying 
on the cross, consumed with a divine thirst, 
and nobody responded ! I have heard His 
call to those from whom we parted. And 
how make Him pleasing to them ! How 
address them? Words are nothing. Often 
they leave souls more bitter and incredulous. 
We wound them in their thoughts and 
feelings and, sometimes, in our desire to 
approach them we drive them farther away. 
How reach their inmost souls? How snatch 
them from the fatal bark and launch them 
safely upon the broad ocean of eternal 
things?” 

“Weep with those who weep, rejoice with 
those who rejoice. Be all things unto all 
men, to gain all” urged the apostle, point- 
ing, with a sweeping gesture, to the wilder- 
ness of Sinai and beyond, to the indistinct 
horizon, to the heathen world she was so 
anxious to save. ‘ ‘The Old Taw must be 
abandoned as impotent and worthless. As 
Christ Himself has loved us and has given 
Himself up for us, so let us walk in the 
path of love. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER II. 

Christianity and Paganism. 

On the morrow they parted. In a last 
talk with Paul, Gamaliel received precise 
instructions regarding the form of his apos- 
tleship, the care to be observed in dealing 
with the Greek spirit, so infatuated with 
itself, and the prudence necessary in such a 
cosmopolitan city as Alexandria. In that 
land of Egypt, addicted to impure mysteries, 
Paul thought it especially important to keep 
the secret protecting the most incompre- 
hensible, yet most celestial of all mysteries, 
and advised Susanna accordingly. 

After these grave words after the break- 
ing of bread — the very gift of the Eord — 
and at the foot of that sacred Mount, where 
no one could see the face of God and live 
— Gamaliel and Susanna resumed their 
journey. For a long time, in profound 
thanksgiving, Paul looked after them. 
Many times, Gamaliel turned towards his 

(19) 


20 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


disciple of old, to receive a parting blessing 
and farewell. At last Saul of Tarsus dis- 
appeared from view and Sinai itself was 
lost in a deep mist. 

It was then, at every step, that the won- 
ders of the past were renewed. It was in 
this very wilderness of Sinai, that manna 
had rained down from above, that the 
waters had burst forth from the rocks, and 
that a luminous flame had guided Israel in 
their flight. Perfumes of myrrh and cinna- 
mon were ever ascending from this land of 
miracles, — as on the first evening after a 
feast day, clouds of incense still float in the 
midst of the temples. 

But as they retraced the glorious path of 
their forefathers, these converted Jews 
sought also and particularly for the humble 
footsteps of Jesus. It was here, when a 
babe, that His Mother had carried Him, 
poor, and riding on an ass, led by Joseph. 
On the few oases, lost in that sandy waste, 
Susanna found innumerable traces of the 
Beloved. They had certainly rested in that 
shade. They must have drunk from this 
spring. And occupied with thoughts sug- 
gested by these scenes day after day passed. 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 


21 


Soon the blue waters of the gulf of Hier- 
opolis became visible in the far distance, 
momentarily growing nearer and nearer, 
and when finally reached and hurriedly 
crossed, the desert resumed its desolate 
monotony, less wild, but also less majestic 
in its grandeur. Hills were perceived in a 
less remote horizon. The immensity of the 
wilderness decreased, and its resultant sen- 
sations became weaker. Egypt exhibited 
herself and her gigantic works. The quar- 
ries of Roomos, lay wide open, as if but yes- 
terday deserted by the workmen, while here 
and there, enormous unused blocks gave 
evidence of the neighborhood of the Nile. 
The inundations of this powerful stream 
seized these huge masses of stone and bore 
them into the workyards on the opposite 
shore, where they were built into pyramids, 
palaces and temples. 

Susanna desired that their tents be pitched 
near Cairo, where the family of Jesus had 
lived. She spent an evening near the fount 
and under the palm-tree where the Virgin 
Mother had cradled her sweet Child. The 
land of Egypt had been consecrated by His 


22 


AFTBR THK NINTH HOUR. 


presence, the first rest of the travellers was 
blessed by it, and Susanna, while sleeping, 
saw angels, their hands full of flowers, 
coming and going in an immense field. 

On the morrow, their hearts strengthened 
by an ardent prayer, Susanna and Gamaliel 
saw the first sunrays light up the tops of 
the pyramids and robe in golden splendor 
the silent, colossal Sphinx. Old Egypt was 
all there. The sun was high when the 
travellers reached the colossus, lost in that 
wide expanse of sand, which makes every- 
thing seem small and trivial .... 

Other curious people had preceded them. 
A litter, horses and slaves were gathered 
around. Completing the tour of the Sphinx, 
Susanna and Gamaliel saw two strangers, 
who by their costumes, they concluded 
were Greeks. The young woman carried a 
nosegay of rare flowers, made rarer still by 
the deathly sterility of the surroundings. 
She was slight of form and very beautiful, 
and when their gaze first fell upon her was 
walking forward as if trying to reach the 
Sphinx. She had removed her veil and 
her golden hair, bound in braided tresses, 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 23 

lightly floated around her brow. Her dia- 
phanous tunic, silken and soft, fell over an 
amber-colored under dress, and in the yel- 
low sand and sunlight, presented a perfect 
living harmony. 

The young man, standing a few steps 
from her, wore a purple chlamys. He fol- 
lowed her with a look which showed how 
intensely he enjoyed that vision of beauty 
on this glorious morning. 

Susanna and Gamaliel halted some dis- 
tance away. The former smiled involun- 
tarily at the Greek woman, and attracted 
by the smile of the maiden and the noble 
face of the old man, the young Greek ap- 
proached them, slightly embarrassed. For 
a while he listened silently to the conversa- 
tion of Susanna and Gamaliel, and then 
impressed by the charm of their words, he 
greeted Gamaliel, as follows : 

“Of course, you know better than I this 
land of old Egypt ; your ancestors for ages 
inhabited it; many of your brethren live 
here. A Greek except in Alexandria is 
greatly bewildered in this strange land. ’ ’ 

Gamaliel kindly returned his salutation. 


24 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

wondering meanwhile that a Jew was so 
easily recognized. 

“I am,” he said, “as ignorant as you, 
as bewildered as you, and further away 
from my fatherland than you. I am going 
to Alexandria.” 

“So am I” replied the Greek. “I return 
there after seeking in Hieropolis traces of 
Plato and investigating in Memphis the 
Egyptian rites, I go back undeceived and 
disillusioned. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I know that Plato based his wisdom on 
the ancient learning” answered Gamaliel. 
‘‘His long stay in Hieropolis does not seem 
to have influenced his life. The Egyptian 
priests, notwithstanding the charm of his 
eloquence, remained silent and distrustful. ’ ’ 

‘‘Ah ! the gods should have decreed that 
they always remain so” said the young 
Greek ironically. ‘‘The gods should have 
forbidden them to open their temples. 
Then not knowing what was in them, we 
could dream they contained some mighty 
divinity. This land knows nothing of beau- 
ty — knows only how to make all things 
appear oppressive and dreadful. How im- 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 25 

mense are their temples ! In them we feel 
so small and insignificant, that we expect a 
sudden revelation.” 

“But have you not the same idols in 
Alexandria?” asked Gamaliel, with some 
haughtiness. 

“Yes, only they have fashioned them 
after the pattern of ours, and I have been 
for a long time weary of our fables. I de- 
sired to study the Egyptian rites at the very 
fountain-head of the ancient worship, but I 
obtained nothing — nothing from the priests, 
nothing from the gods. Thanks to influen- 
tial recommendations, we were allowed to 
pass behind the purple veil and gaze upon 
the sleeping ox, which incarnates the great 
Serapis. I think the priests do not believe 
in it, but they leave to the multitude the 
folly of adoring it. The deceitful part they 
play before the people is very disgusting, ’ ’ 

Gamaliel regarded with kindly eye this 
sincere young man, and, desirous of pen- 
etrating his soul, responded : 

“So error descends from degree to degree. 
A nation, reputed to be the wisest among 
the wise for untold ages, enlightened, 


26 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


learned, mystical, offers to souls craving for 
the divine the supreme satisfaction of ador- 
ing a sacred ox, a crocodile, or a dog ! It 
is enough to shame the idols eternally. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘They have some good points, however, ’ ’ 
replied the Greek, as in a dream. “They 
do not know what is hidden behind death. 
Who does know? And still they have 
reared before the threshold of the mystery 
a magnificent portico.” Waving his hands 
towards the pyramids and the Sphinx, he 
said “A riddle and a grave, and that is all 
of life.” 

“God solves the riddle, and He reopens 
the graves,” exclaimed Gamaliel. 

“You Jews ! How you assert !” said the 
Greek, with a smile. “But I love to hear 
you. I shall always doubt — the gods do 
not speak ! Still, it makes me happier to 
discover something new and beautiful. ’ ’ 

Throwing himself down in the sand, he 
carelessly leaned on his elbows, and at once 
became confidential with his new friend. 
With the light smartness of the Greek, he 
spoke of the scholars in Alexandria, who, 
contending for fame, gave life and anima- 
tion to the schools. ’ ’ 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 27 

“One only, a man of your race, is not en- 
snared by the atmosphere which pretends 
to absorb all creeds. His eclecticism under- 
takes to reconcile the Bible and our phil- 
osophy. I like Philo because he is a 
poet. ’ ’ 

“Philo? Why, it is he whom I am going 
to see ! It is indeed providential to meet 
here a friend of his. ’ ’ 

“Henceforth you are my guest” said the 
Greek. “And now tell me your name.” 

‘ ‘ My name will tell you nothing, ’ ’ humbly 
replied Gamaliel. “I am Gamaliel, Simon’s 
son ; for a long time I have taught in Jeru- 
salem.” 

“Do you think us barbarians, Master?” 
exclaimed the Greek, with joy. “The 
name of ‘ the light of Israel ’ has reached 
us surrounded by a halo of tolerance, sweet- 
ness and sympathy, like Philo’s for our 
race, listening to you I felt all this; I 
shall be delighted to lead you to Alexan- 
dria, if you have no better guide.” 

He called Mylenes. Standing near the 
Sphinx, the fair young Greek was saying 
something in a low tone. She had thrown 


28 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


before the huge image her rare flowers. 
Upon hearing his voice she turned and 
their eyes met. All the beauty and refine- 
ment of Greece seemed to radiate from her 
person. 

“If religion served only to put a little of 
the infinite into the dream of those who 
love, it should be perpetuated,” said the 
young pagan in a melancholy tone. “My- 
lenes would not be so sweet if she had not 
that intimate need of tender superstitions. 
I never combat them ; there is something 
ethereal in her smallest gesture. Wonder 
not, when I say that it is to preserve her 
beauty I keep from her all impure initia- 
tions in that mad city. If a shadow of them 
rested upon heir, she would no more possess 
that look ; she would no longer wear that 
smile. Three thousand years ago the Egyp- 
tians said ” 

“And what did the Egyptians say?” 
asked Mylenes, drawing near with a rapid 
step. 

‘ ‘They said to woman ‘ O my sweet palm 
of love ! O palm giving new life ! ’ ” 

She laughed, “Well, it is the first pretty 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 29 

thing I ever heard from them. They make 
me afraid and I hate them,” and leaning 
on her husband, in a low voice, she con- 
tinued, “Helos, to propitiate the Sphinx, if 
she can hear me, I have thrown before her 
all my flowers. ’ ’ 

“Why?” asked Helos? 

“Why? Well, possibly behind that im- 
penetrable forehead she guards the secret of 
our destinies, so I said ‘ Remember the 
flowers of Mylenes. ’ ’ ’ 

“Sweet,” whispered Helos, removing a 
flower petal from the edge of her dress. 

“These illustrious strangers,” he con- 
tinued, aloud, “are our guests.” 

Mylenes slightly blushed. She had for- 
gotten the strangers. She respectfully bowed 
before Gamaliel, and approaching Susanna 
with the easy grace of a refined woman, she 
said, “You are welcome. Do you come 
from afar?” 

“From Jerusalem,” answered Susanna, 
“after spending many days in the wild 
desert.” 

“You must be very weary, but to go 
down to Alexandria, along the Nile, will 


30 AFTKR THK ninth HOUR. 

be easy,” and looking directly at Susanna, 
she said, “How beautiful you are !” 

“I do not know if I am beautiful,” 
Susanna replied, “I have not thought of 
it.” 

‘‘It is because you are not in love, other- 
wise you would think very much about it. 
I would like Helos to find me always nearer 
to his fancy ; if not, I would be less dear to 
him. I think there is within us Greeks a 
sense of harmony, against which we can- 
not strive. Could you imagine Helos say- 
ing ‘ O light of my eyes ’ or .... as he said 
a while ago ‘ O ! my sweet palm of love ! ’ 
to an ugly woman?” 

‘‘No, I cannot imagine that,” said Sus- 
anna, smiling likewise. ‘‘But it is the 
soul which gives beauty. ’ ’ 

‘‘The soul?” Mylenes almost shut her 
dark eyes, whence, notwithstanding her 
light words, her own soul shone forth burn- 
ing and profound. 

There was a silence. Susanna approached 
closer to her. ‘‘Tell me what you like,” 
she asked of Mylenes. 

‘ ‘Anything with wings ; — anything which 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. 3 1 

blossoms ; — anything which sings into my 
being — to love and to be loved.” She 
stopped, and gaily showing to Susanna 
her bare arms, encircled with gold bracelets 
and trinkets, she said, “I like these also, 
and that is all.” 

‘ ‘And those who suffer ?’ ’ added Susanna. 

‘‘I do not know: Helos does not suffer. 
As to others, I do not see them. I abhor 
sad things and I sacrifice in honor of all 
the gods I meet, that they may keep me 
happy. ’ ’ 

The two men were talking about Alexan- 
dria. Helos spoke of Ammonius and his 
discourses on Homer. 

Mylenes said to Susanna ‘‘I wonder why 
Helos must always be asking questions, 
and searching for the truth ? The truth ! I 
know of only one. ’ ’ 

She smiled, but did not finish expressing 
her thought. 

After a short period, she continued, 
‘‘True enough, I think only of today, but 
is there a morrow for us?” 

A shadow of impatience darkened the 
brow of Susanna, but she ceased not to 


32 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


appear pleasant, and taking Mylenes’ hand, 
said: “We must be prepared for a morrow. ’ ’ 

The sun shone down upon the arid land 
and flooded the scene with marvelous light. 

“There are hours,” resumed Mylenes, 
“hours of wonderful light like these, when 
it seems to me there are abysses within me, 
into which I am afraid to look ; there seems 
to be life separate and apart from this life, 
and I then dream of impossible things. 
How can I tell this to you, to you whose 
God is so inaccessible? Yet I would like 
to love a God who would love me, and to 
ask Him for gifts that are interior and 
eternal.” 

These words sounded strange amidst the 
sands of the desert, and Helos hearing them 
laughed. 

“Mylenes,” said Susanna solemnly, 
“love the invisible God. He will love 
you. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER III. 

Helos and Mylenes. 

Gamaliel and Susanna accepted the in- 
vitation of their new friends. Together 
they embarked upon the boat awaiting 
them at Memphis. The descent of the Nile 
from Memphis to Alexandria was like a 
fairy-scene. Silently and slowly the vessel 
glided along with the current of the river. 
Three or four bronze-faced Egyptians as- 
sisted in its management. As far as the 
eye could see, the ground was covered with 
the deposit of the Nile and was of an extra- 
ordinary fertility, but beyond the hills 
which hid the horizon, was sterility and 
death. Here and there the river narrowed, 
and a forest of tall aquatic plants made 
navigation slow and difficult. Then the 
majestic stream would widen again and 
resume its course, green islands whereon 
sleepy oxen browsed appearing at intervals, 
while between the wheat and corn fields, 
3 (33) 


34 


AFTER The ninth HOUR. 


villages and cities were seen gleaming 
through the light verdure of the palm trees. 

In the distance a city of the Pharaos 
half hidden in sand appeared, and sphinxes, 
squatted in pairs, followed the passing boat 
with enigmatic look. 

Susanna and Mylenes sat near each other 
perfecting their newly formed acquaintance. 
Mylenes made gay every incident of the 
voyage with her happy child-like laugh and 
made no allusion to her troubled thoughts 
of yesterday. Having once lifted the veil 
of her soul, she felt that she had done 
enough to create between Susanna and her- 
self a bond of true sympathy. An instinc- 
tive modesty sealed her lips, and she be- 
trayed no more of herself than outwardly 
appeared. 

She did not speak again, nor was it 
necessary. Susanna clearly read that tender 
being. “Helos.” All her life of child- 
wife was bound up in that one word, and 
she uttered it as she could no other name. 

Susanna gazed upon this poem, the only 
romance of her life thus far, with the 
resignation of one who sees beyond the 


HEI.OS AND MYLENES. 


35 


grave, and knows that any tenderness not 
eternal breaks the frail vase of the heart 
sooner or later. 

The tenderness of Mylenes, pagan as it 
was, could not be eternal. . . . Her heaven 
was void. There was for her, in the great 
beyond, neither future, nor hope ; there was 
only the present and the narrow circle of 
earthly happiness. But this pagan soul, 
miraculously preserved, was pure, tender, 
and profound. Susanna waited for the 
hour when Christ would come to her. 

Helos, like all his Greek contemporaries, 
had exhausted the cup of joy offered to his 
lips. Weary unto disgust, he had given 
himself up to the ardent study of philosophy 
and was inscribed among the members of 
the Museum. Then happiness had come 
to him in the form of the beautiful maid 
who one day at the public games had gazed 
intently at him. He had admired her for 
her beauty, he loved her for her gifts of 
soul. He had discarded, one after another, 
all the ancient myths ; he had felt the 
death within him of the last glimmerings 
of faith. When three years before, just 


36 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


after their marriage, he had asked her to 
what god they should consecrate their 
home, passing over all the gods of Egypt 
and of Greece, they had chosen Pudor. 
The sacred flame had again been enkindled 
but he hardly knew whether the libations he 
poured anew on this altar, were in honor 
of the veiled Virgin of Rome, or of the 

woman he loved 

* * 

* 

“I know but imperfectly the condition of 
the Jews in Alexandria,” said Gamaliel. 
“I know they own two of the five districts 
of the city ; that they are in charge of the 
corn and wheat ; that they are, unhappily, 
very much addicted to trade. But how they 
are esteemed by the people, what their 
standing is in the community, we could not 
possibly know, being at such a distance.” 

“Alexandria does not resemble any other 
city,” said Helos, gloomily. “The Egyp- 
tians, restless, violent, active, laugh at the 
Greeks, who, in turn, despise them.” 

“And the Egyptians and the Greeks both 
hate us,” persisted Gamaliel. “You may 
speak; the truth will not frighten me. I 


HEI.OS AND MYEENKS. 


37 


have left Jerusalem, — driven away as an 
outlaw by my own people, henceforth to be 
a stranger to them. ’ ’ 

“What then is to be your position here?” 
asked Helos. “Falsely, or truly, evil 
stories are told of the Jews. Twenty years 
ago they were accused of causing a famine 
in the city. The intervention of Germanicus 
was necessary to repress the trouble, and 
the impression then produced still remains. 
They are said to be very wealthy, notwith- 
standing their affectation of poverty. When 
Agrippa failed in his attempts to borrow 
throughout the world a sum large enough 
to meet his needs, it was your Alabarch, 
Alexander Tysimacus, who re-established 
the fortune of the king upon the signature 
of Cipros, his wife. They live very much 
by themselves, but we do the same around 
the Museum. We do not interfere in their 
quarrels. Nevertheless, Greek as I am, my 
very best friend is Philo.” 

“The simplicity of Philo is proverbial,” 
said Gamaliel. “His habits are very like 
those sung by your Homer of old. ’ ’ 

“Where are you?” exclaimed the Greek, 


38 AFTKR THK NINTH HOUR. 

with the slightest shade of irony in his 
tone. “Where are the Greeks of Homer? 
Rather, it may be asked, where are his 
gods? The Alexandrians by mingling the 
genius of the Greek and the Oriental, have 
become a people of themselves, a distinct 
and separate nation. The great blind poet 
would flee from that land where he is only 
read and commented on for the sake of 
novelty. ’ ’ 

“I have come from afar,” murmured 
Gamaliel. 

“Imagine not that the women are still in 
the Gunekaios,” continued Helos, “or that 
men still speak of war in the public places. 
Women now go painted, over-dressed, be- 
decked with jewels, exhibiting from gilded 
cars the insolence of their brazen beauty. 
Nearly all have deserted the religion of 
their fathers and have been initiated into 
cults unknown to them. As to the men, 
they are all slaves of Rome. Why then talk 
about war?” 

“But your poets and philosophers?” 

“Poetry is fallen into the elaborations 
and subtle complications of Callimachus, 


HEl<OS AND MYLKNES. 


39 


Apollonius of Rhodes and Asclepiades. 
These mercenary Ptolemian poets — salaried 
poets — in all their works combined, do not 
attain the beauty of one verse of Sophocles. 
In this city which Cleopatra, almost a 
century ago, ruined by her luxuries and 
scandals, they are always talking of love, 
but the beauty of the words employed, 
scarcely conceals the shameful corruption 
which exists. How then can gems be found 
in such filth?” 

He stopped and smiled at Mylenes, who 
was intently listening, and then resumed. 
“A real and earnest effort is being made by 
some philosophers to unite the several 
truths contained in all the known systems. 
They call this eclecticism, and willingly I 
adopt it. We have great names to uphold 
our thesis, still, I am without hope. We 
have all the vices and defects of the old 
nations. We are, as it were, stage managers, 
giving greater heed to the form than to the 
substance. The subject is superficially 
treated, but the form with which it is en- 
dowed is divine. I would not be a Greek, 
I confess, if I were not fond of the games 


40 AFTER the NINTH HOUR. 

in the amphitheatre — the races — those 
magnificent four-horse races, upon which 
the whole world gazes spell-bound. ’ ’ 

He smiled anew at Mylenes, who was 
waving a garland of ferns. 

“It is for the victor,” said she, in answer 
to his smile. “Susanna, Helos has been 
twice victor.” 

“It is here,” said Gamaliel, “in Alexan- 
dria, that the three forces which lead the 
world meet: the Jewish synagogue, the 
Roman legions and Grecian art. ’ ’ 

“Ah, there are very many other things 
in that vast caravansary ! ’ ’ said Helos. 
“The mysticism of the Egyptian priests, 
the chaos of religions, the people craving 
for pelf.” 

They were now drawing near the city. 
Alexandria, the beautiful, Alexandria, the 
golden, as sung by the poets, was seen in 
the distance. That city of marble, born of 
the royal fancy of Alexander, appeared 
widely spread out' beneath the reddish rays 
of the setting sun. The regularly laid out 
streets, with their huge colonnades and 
large porticoes, with lofty elevations in the 


HKI.OS AND MYIvKNES. 


41 


centre, from which could be had, here a 
view of the ocean and there, of Lake 
Mareotis, were now visible, crossing the 
city from east to west, from north to south. 
Cars, horses, litters, darting to and fro, 
broke and halted the long lines of camels, 
groaning under their burdens of riches from 
lands remote. 

The harbors presented a scene of extra- 
ordinary activity. Thousands of slaves 
were loading and unloading the ships, 
those peculiar Alexandrian ships, large and 
flat, with the head of Isis carved upon each 
bow, the greatest ships in the then known 
world. 

“How shall I begin the enumeration?” 
cheerfully asked Mylenes, standing erect 
and beaming with pride in the splendor of 
her country. 

“The fairest monument is, perhaps, the 
Gymnasium, with its gigantic double 
course ; or the Museum, there in the centre, 
with its Temple of the Muses. There you 
can see the wonderful temple of Serapis, 
which is approached by a flight of one 
hundred marble steps, and there is the 


42 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


palace of L/Ochias. Here is the Soma, where 
Alexander the Great rests in his chrystal 
coffin ; the Timonium, where Anthony 
killed himself ; the Caesareum, the fortress 
of the city, and opposite, in the Isle of 
Pharos, that many-storied beacon, one of 
the seven wonders of the world, built by 
Sostrates of Cnidos. ’ ’ 

“It was there, on that Island of Pharos,” 
interrupted Gamaliel, “that seventy of our 
fathers, stolen from their own country, 
translated into Greek our Holy Scriptures. 
This event is of more importance in the 
history of the world than the military 
achievements of Alexander or the extrava- 
gancies of Anthony. ’ ’ 

“What more is there?” continued My- 
lenes, who cared nothing for the Septuagint 
Version. “I must mention everything. 
The theatre, the temple of Neptune and that 
of Bacchus. Who has not a temple in 
Alexandria? The ten thousand gods of 
Take Mareotis are proverbial. ’ ’ 

“Palaces lead from one to the other, as 
Homer relates,” added Helos, smiling at 
her enthusiasm. “After Alexander, the 


HKIyOS AND MYLKNES. 


43 


I^agides embellished the city, each accord- 
ing to his own taste. With lofty ambition, 
they accumulated palaces, public gardens 
and those incomparable libraries, the most 
important of which, alas! was burned. 
Cleopatra and Anthony, for fashion’s sake, 
added to these the most exquisite produc- 
tions of their age. ’ ’ 

“Ah!” exclaimed Gamaliel, ‘‘how good 
it is to feel poor in this modern Babylon ! 
What must become of the souls of those 
enervated by such delights as these ! ’ ’ 

“Souls — who cares about souls?” replied 
Helos bitterly. “If, however,” he resumed, 
“you look upon the right you will see the 
temple of Isis Lochias, on the left the 
temple of Isis Pharia and in the center Isis 
Plusia, they all are there. There numbers 
of men with shaven heads and clad in linen 
spend their lives in fasting and endless 
prayers at the feet of the goddess. At night 
they question the stars and then tell the 
future of this world of ours. They are silent 
about the next. ’ ’ 

Suddenly a great clamor sounded from 
afar and its reverberations coming nearer 


44 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


and nearer, it enveloped the whole city like 
the roar of a tempest. Amazed, the travel- 
lers looked at each other. ” 

“Do not be frightened,” said Helos, 
“there cannot be two such uproars. It is 
the feast , of the resurrection of Osiris. 
Priests, mystics and believers run hither 
and thither, yelling madly. Within a few 
hours the city will glow like a furnace. So 
it is every year. I^et us hasten. The last 
act consists of a series of dramatic represen- 
tations, which exalt the fervent in delirium. 
The streets will soon become impassable. 
The priests of Serapis and Isis will mingle 
with those of Cybele and Bacchus, the 
Galles and the Chory by antes, all the cults 
of this Babel, insane with frenzy.” 

“Where are we?” whispered Susanna. 

They had now reached the nearest pier. 
Helos put the two women in a litter, and 
according to instructions they proceeded 
directly to the Jewish quarter near the Hip- 
podrome. The streets were now filled with 
a restless, haggard crowd, their eyes dilated 
by fasting, followed by excess, the effects 
of recent initiation. The mystics of Isis 


HELOS AND MYLENES. 


45 


Struck the passers-by with their systra, 
muttering incoherent words. Disgusted, 
Susanna closed her eyes. 

They had now arrived at the Jewish 
quarter. Here the new friends separated, 
with the promise of soon seeing each other 
again. Helos and Mylenes entered the city 
through the gate of the Sun. Susanna and 
Gamaliel, dismissing the litter, walked to 
the house of Philo. Hardly had they 
reached it, when the heavy gates of the 
Ghetto were closed. The deserted and ob- 
scure streets were like shadows in the 
brightness, a silent corner amidst the mad 
uproar of a whole populace. 


CHAPTER IV. 


To die for Him. 

Philo was not at home. He was visiting 
his brother, the Alabarch Alexander Eysi- 
machus, they thought. A servant was sent 
to accompany the travellers thither. The 
dignity of Alabarch, the highest of offices, 
gave to Alexandria the presidency of a San- 
hedrim, numbering forty members. The 
Jews were dependent on this tribunal for 
direct negotiations with the Emperor. In 
this way they kept their autonomy, theirs 
being virtually a state within a state. 

Besides this office, so high in itself, 
Alexander possessed immense wealth, emi- 
nent culture and the title of “Caesar’s 
Friend,’’ the most magical gift of all. The 
Alabarch occupied a sombre elevated house 
in the centre of the Jewish district, com- 
pletely isolated from the street. On the 
side facing the street, over the low entrance, 
(46) 


TO DIH FOR HIM. 


47 


was a single narrow window, barred and 
grated, like those seen in prisons. The 
whole exterior appearance of the place was 
one of extreme exclusiveness. Admission 
was gained through an outside cedar door. 
At the end of a long vaulted corridor was a 
second door of iron. Another and shorter 
corridor followed and then haughty ser- 
vants opened before you still another door, 
a light swinging one, and permitted you to 
enter the house of the Alabarch. 

Here amazement seized you. In a court 
with fig trees growing in the midst of grass 
and flowers, fresh water gushed forth from 
marble fountains and fell sparkling in 
rhythmic cadence, to the marble basins 
beneath. All the apartments of the house 
communicated with this garden, on the one 
side those of the men, on the other, the 
women. The raised portiers revealed the 
most luxurious furnishings. Rain-bow- 
colored stained glass windows cast a soft 
light upon the gold-embroidered cushions, 
Indian carpets, magnificent candelabra, and 
ivory couches. Rare tables with supports 
lichly carved in the forms of strange 


48 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


animals, large bronze lamps, both of an- 
tique and modern design, cups, the perfec- 
tion of the master-potters’ skill, set with 
precious stones, everything which wealth 
could procure to make the whole interior 
beautiful and artistic was here. The wealth 
here so unexpectedly displayed equalled the 
riches of a province. “We poor people,’’ 
Philo was wont to say. Alexander was not 
offended, looking upon the voluntary sim- 
plicity of his brother’s mode of life, as a 
philosopher’s eccentricity, which fortunat- 
ely detracted attention from his own luxury. 

Philo was not at his brother’s house. 
Alexander, however, welcomed Gamaliel 
and Susanna most warmly, showing them 
all honor. His daughters, Roxane and 
Helcea, also greeted them kindly. These 
young women had adopted the indoor 
costume of wealthy Egyptians, a long 
tunic, over which was worn a shorter gar- 
ment with broad and flowing sleeves, 
richly embroidered in gold, and they 
presented a very pleasing appearance. Both 
maidens welcomed Susanna, studying with 
evident curiosity one of their own race, 


TO DIK FOR HIM. 


49 


whom the Egyptian atmosphere had not, as 
yet, affected. They enquired of her news 
of Jerusalem, the home of their fathers, 
which they thought of as a distant legendary 
land. Timidly, Helcea asked about the 
events of the past few years. But Susanna, 
remembering the advice of Saul of Tarsus, 
imparted very little information. 

The sons of the Alabarch, Alexander 
Tiberius and Marcus, came in and were 
presented to the guests and joined them at 
the evening meal, which was now served. 
It consisted of cold meats, preserves, sweets 
and fruits, with wine of Naxos in golden 
ewers. During the meal Alexander Tiberius 
greatly displeased Gamaliel by his un- 
seemly levity and inappropriate jests abont 
the Bible. It was very easy to see in him 
a deserter of his ancient faith, one who, at 
no very distant date, would prove himself 
to be a contemptible renegade from the holy 
teachings of his forefathers. Marcus was 
more frank and sympathetic than his brother 
and did not engage in the conversation ex- 
cept to announce the coming of Agrippa in 
the spring. Surprised at his information, 
4 


50 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

his father asked him where he got the 
news. Marcus for some unknown reason 
became greatly confused, and replied that 
it was a vague rumor in the city. 

“What a destiny is that of Agrippa!” 
said the Alabarch. “You know as well as 
I his misfortunes and failures, and the 
wonderful versatility he has shown in 
recovering his lost fortunes with the able 
assistance of his wife, Cipros. But his last 
adventure surpasses all previous ones. On 
the denunciation of a slave, Tiberius, who 
hated him, caused him to be chained to a 
tree, clad in his purple robes. ’ ’ 

“Times have changed,” interrupted Mar- 
cus. “Caligula has had Tiberius smoth- 
ered to death, because he did not die soon 
enough, naturally, to please him. He has 
liberated Agrippa, his friend, and has pre- 
sented him with golden chains of the same 
weight as the iron ones. The prisoner of 
yesterday is the king of to-day. ’ ’ 

“No one is safe with Caligula, according 
to Cheremon who knows him well,” replied 
his father. “God grant we may have under 
him the same privileges that we enjoyed 


TO DIE FOR HIM. 


51 


under Tiberius. But our Prefect does not 
stand well at court. They have not for- 
given him his former enmity to Germani- 
cus : nor his devotion to Tiberius. The 
people know the situation and eagerly 
watch the result. What can he do to gain 
the royal favor? Woe unto us if he cannot 
restrain the mob in Alexandria !” 

“Is the situation, then, so critical here?” 
enquired Gamaliel. 

“This is not an exceptional condition,” 
answered the Alabarch. “It comes from 
hatred, an hereditary hatred. Amongst the 
higher classes it has greatly lessened, if it 
has not altogether disappeared. A sym- 
pathy born of mutual understanding, thanks 
to the good work of Philo, seems to exist 
between us. But the rabble does not think. 
It acts on impulse. Our faith and their 
worship of the gods repel each other. ’ ’ 

“Oh Lord!” exclaimed Gamaliel, “I 
leave Jerusalem behind me, plunged in 
hatred and come here to find Alexandria in 
the throes of the same deadly passion. ’ ’ 

“It is true that we hate and that we are 
hated,” said the Alabarch with haughti- 


52 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

ness, “but we ought to glory in that mutual 
hatred.” 

“Hate the sin, but love the sinner,” un- 
consciously murmured Gamaliel. 

“Are you not a Pharisee?” asked Alex- 
ander. 

“No,” said Gamaliel, “not since the 
earth has seen the Sweetness of God Him- 
self passing . . . . ” 

“Tell me about it,” said Tysimachus, 
suddenly interested. “What have you 
seen? What have you heard? For the 
past few years, those who come from our 
synagogue in Jerusalem bring with them 
strange stories. Ask Helcea . . . . ” 

“Please, father,” interrupted Tiberius, 
“let this cease. We have superstitions 
enough here already. ’ ’ 

Helcea cast down her eyes, and a blush 
slowly suffused her cheeks. . . . 

It was now quite late, and as Philo had 
not called for them, and as they did not 
wish to abuse the hospitality of the Alab- 
arch, Susanna and Gamaliel returned to 
the house of the great master. The latter 
had just arrived home, and he welcomed 
them most warmly. 


TO DIE FOR HIM. 


53 


“Peace be with you, brother; welcome 
to the blessed guest whom God sends me. 
I did not expect you so soon. I confess to 
you my weakness. Philo, the grave Philo, 
was attending a Greek tragedy when you 
came. ’ ’ 

“I bless the hour in which, at last, I see 
you, and I bless the events which com- 
pelled me to come to you with my sister, 
Susanna,” Gamaliel responded. 

Philo affectionately placed his hand upon 
the head of the maiden as a sign of blessing, 
and tenderly said to her, “Peace be to you 
in the name of the One who is Peace. ’ ’ 

In that year, 37, Philo was not yet an 
old man, but his natural majesty, the calm, 
peaceful expression of his eyes, gave to his 
countenance a benign, a heavenly appear- 
ance, yet withal, an aged one. 

“When did you come!” he exclaimed. 
“A storm of madness is raging over the 
city. How did you find my abode?” 

Gamaliel and Susanna related their meet- 
ing with Helos and the immediate intimacy 
which the name of Philo had created be- 
tween them and the Greeks. The learned 
man smiled on hearing the name of Helos. 


54 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

“Helos is a sincere soul,” he said, “and 
he interests me because of his typically 
Greek spirit. Scepticism, alas, envenoms 
him. I cannot persuade him to believe. . . . 
But tell me of our brethren in Jerusalem. 
Can I still call them brethren? They re- 
pulsed me because I tried to break down 
the wall which separated them from the 
world ; because I attempted to make easier 
the way to the truth. I feel they look upon 
me in the light of a deserter. I do not care, 
however. We must concern ourselves with 
higher things. ’ ’ 

“As for me,” answered Gamaliel, “they 
have rejected me because I protected the 
innocent, because I welcomed, and blessed, 
and loved, more than I loved myself, the 
pure light of God. While we blame them, 
let us forgive. I have serious things to tell 
you, my beloved brother, when the hour of 
the lyord cometh.” 

Sarah, the wife of Philo, then came in ; 
she kissed Susanna and led her to the apart- 
ment which was ready for her. The house 
was small, almost poor, with barely any 
furniture. 


To DIK FOR HIM. 


55 


“Everything is simple here, my daugh- 
ter,” she said to Susanna. “It is not right 
to live like the pagans in this accursed 
land. It is well they enjoy themselves here 
below ; they shall weep and gnash their 
teeth elsewhere. We have, even on earth 
sometimes, the joy of hearing their down- 
fall.” 

“The joy?” exclaimed Susanna. 

“Yes, the joy. Do they not dishonor 
heaven by their vices? Are they not God’s 
enemies and ours, also?” 

“They are rather to be called unfortun- 
ate,” said Susanna. “They do not know 
the right path.” 

“Do they not see our lives?” sharply in- 
terrupted Sarah. “What more do they 
need ? Philo says they know not what they 
do. But let us remember that the Lord 
commanded and our fathers exterminated in 
one day twenty-three thousand Amalekites 
simply because they were our enemies. Let 
us remain true to the traditions of our race, 
daughter. ’ ’ 

Susanna perceived that discussion was 
useless, and asked leave to go up to the 
terrace to pray. 


56 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


The night was clear, yet the stars did not 
seem to shed their light upon the city. As 
Helos had said, Alexandria was glowing 
like a furnace, and it presented a most fan- 
tastic sight. From the terrace, Susanna 
could see the Bruchium, with its myriad of 
palaces brilliantly illuminated. The temples 
were radiant under the constant showers of 
colored fires. Along the wharves, multi- 
colored flames were reflected in the water, 
which resembled a sea of molten lead ; even 
the boats at their moorings were hung with 
many lights. In the universal glare, a 
confused multitude, ceaselessly moving, 
passed to and fro. The music of innumer- 
able instruments, lutes, flutes and cymbals, 
playing various airs, became harsh and dis- 
cordant noises, and mingling with the un- 
harmonious songs of choirs of children and 
of men, caused the whole city to resound 
with the jarring clamor. 

The cry of the Chorybants, “Bvohe ! 
Kvohe ! ’ ’ clashed with the tune of crotalums 
and answered the sounds of the systra used 
by the priests of Isis. 

Susanna, on the edge of the terrace, 


TO DIB FOR HIM. 


57 


listened to the turbulence and looked at the 
mad scene, as from afar. Her whole being 
was wrapped in a feeling of utter desola- 
tion. . . . Although on a roof of the Ghetto, 
overlooking thousands of human beings, 
she was more alone than in the heart of the 
wilderness of Pharan — alone and in an in- 
tense agony of hopelessness. What could 
she do amongst them all, these frenzied 
pagans and hostile Jews? 

The words of Sarah pained her heart 
more cruelly than the songs of the idolaters. 
Ah ! the blind misunderstanding, the un- 
reasonable obstacles raised by those nearest 
to her. What a sorrow in the midst of sor- 
row ! Why had she left Jerusalem ! Why 
left the sweet presence of the Virgin Mary, 
the grave and tender conversation of Peter 
and John! Why had she come to this 
remote land only to feel weak and power- 
less ! But strange indeed I Just at the 
moment when her despondency was great- 
est, the festal sounds as of the acme of joy 
rolling up to her from the gay and light- 
hearted city, appealed to her like a wailing 
cry of distress — of infinite pitiable distress. 


58 


AFTER The ninth HOUR. 


It seemed to her like the vain, exhausted 
effort of a helpless world striving to fill and 
satisfy the open, yawning chasm of the 
human soul with delights and pleasures, 
suceeding only in evoking an ever-new and 
despairing appeal, a distant, rumbling 
death-rattle. Susanna, quivering, stooped 
with bated breath, as the plaintive cry rose 
and fell in an agonizing moan, which she 
could neither understand, nor comfort. 

Suddenly she seemed to see the cross of 
Golgotha suspended in the sky above and 
beyond the glittering city. Bleeding, 
crowned with thorns, Christ seemed to be 
dying still on Calvary. The shouts of feast- 
ing Alexandria ascended to Him as did the 
taunts of the high-priests and the insults of 
the Israelites. He heard every sound ; He 
emptied His chalice to the dregs. 

Again the dying Christ looked on her 
with an inexpressible look, evidently a last 
appeal . 

Then Susanna clearly understood the 
great law which forces life to gush forth 
from death, not for Him alone, but for all 
who desire to share and help in His divine 


TO DIE FOR HIM. 


59 


work of redemption. In this pagan land 
where they were hated her work lay before 
her. She could, perhaps, die for Him, 

She joined her hands in ardent supplica- 
tion, without a word to that Master of her 
soul. Gazing upon her in silence. He knew 
that her muttered prayer was, that she 
might, as He had done, shed the last drop 
of her blood on that arid land, and by her 
sacrifice reap a harvest of Christian souls. 

The divine head fell backward, the lips 
closed with a sign of supreme acceptance . . . 


CHAPTER V. 

*‘Do the Gods come back?** 

The first few days were spent quietly 
under the roof of Philo. The Alexandrian 
Jew revealed to Gamaliel the dream of unity 
which had taken such a firm hold upon 
him, but Gamaliel spoke not of the One in 
whom only his dream could be possibly 
realized. He awaited God’s own time to 
make it known. On the day after the feast 
of Osiris, when the city had resumed its 
normal quietude, Helos came to see his 
travelling companions. His friendship for 
Philo was of long standing, his admiration 
of him profound. “He is the Jewish Plato, ’ ’ 
he often enthusiastically remarked. To- 
gether they studied that great Greek phil- 
osopher, together they continued or cor- 
rected his doctrine in the light of the Bible, 
but notwithstanding their common endeav- 
ors, Philo noticed with sadness that the 
mind of Helos was continually wandering. 

(6o) 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 


6l 


Sometimes Gamaliel enlarged their horizon 
of thought by some truth taught by the 
Saviour, without saying, however, it was 
from him, and the mystical soul of the Jew 
and the restless one of the Greek, opened 
themselves with surprise to the eternal can- 
ticle, the first words of which were now 
reaching them. 

“Brother,” Philo would say, “who speaks 
in the world like this?” Pensively, Helos 
would whisper, “Do the gods come back?” 
But Gamaliel maintained an impenetrable 
silence. 

Susanna, according to the custom of her 
brethren, the primitive Christians of Jeru- 
salem, desired to occupy herself with the 
care of the poor in her neighborhood. This 
desire was for Mylenes the source of extra- 
ordinary astonishment which she made no 
attempt to conceal. Susanna, imitating her 
divine Master and believing example to be 
more powerful than precept, did not take 
offense at the surprise of Mylenes, but 
occasionally gave her a word of affectionate 
advice. She gladly accompanied the Greek 
lady in her walks, and Mylenes tried to 


62 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


comfort her exiled friend by exhibiting, one 
after another, the splendors of Alexandria. 
Of course they began with the Museum. 
Helos was not one of the hundred members 
composing that illustrious body, but there 
was not a day that he did not enter into the 
discussions under the porticoes, and his 
knowledge of Plato and Homer, surprising 
in a young man of fashion addicted to the 
races and the games, as displayed in the 
rare lectures he sometimes gave there, had 
already attracted attention and earned for 
him the highest esteem. 

So Susanna went to admire the long gal- 
leries, the cupola two stories high, under 
which the philosophers ate their meals, the 
circular rooms, surrounded by columns, 
opening on gardens, where were gathered 
together the flora and fauna of all lands, 
the observatory, the collections, etc. On 
the door of one of the libraries an inscrip- 
tion was engraved, Remedies for the soul,^^ 
and it seemed that above all others, the 
souls of those privileged ones could live 
well and happily, sheltered amid this chosen 
few, without care for the morrow. But in 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 63 

reality the reverse was nearer the truth. 
These men of learning were become com- 
pilers, sophists, rhetoricians, lost in sense- 
less discussions of mere words. 

The Lagides had opened a large school 
here. For centuries their museum had 
materially assisted in making Alexandria 
one of the intellectual centres of the world. 
But the human mind cannot be enslaved 
without losing its grandeur. Not one im- 
mortal work went forth from the walls of 
the Museum. This was already true in the 
first century. 

After the Lagides, Rome dominated the 
whole body, appointing even the priest to 
preside over it. The philosophers, lovers 
of independence, passed through this great 
school and then departed to other lands. 

After the Museum, they visited the pal- 
aces and gardens. Her innate delicacy de- 
terred Mylenes from taking her Jewish 
friend to the pagan temples, even the an- 
cient ones, now deserted, but once the glory 
of Rhacotis. Susanna, however, followed 
her to that strange quarter of graves and 
catacombs, where bodies were embalmed. 


64 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

Sumptuous monuments were scattered 
around the Mausoleum of Stratonice. Those 
of recent date were easily distinguishable 
by the strong perfumes they exhaled. 
Passing near a forsaken tomb-stone, My- 
lenes deciphered an inscription of Cali- 
machus, and read it aloud : 

“Worn out by old age and poverty, with 
no one to care for me in misfortune, I 
reached the grave, where at last I found 
the end of a sorrowful life. The law of 
death was changed for me. Before burial, 
I was already a corpse.” 

“How beautiful are those lines,” said 
Mylenes. “You can almost see that poor 
miserable man.” 

“They are sad, because too true,” an- 
swered Susanna. “So many poor around 
us could truthfully utter the same com- 
plaint.” 

“It has always been so,” lightly replied 
Mylenes. ‘ ‘What can we do to prevent it ? ” 

‘ ‘We can always try, ’ ’ continued Susanna. 
“We can visit those who suffer, help them 
and comfort them. ’ ’ 

“It would only be like a drop of water in 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 65 

the ocean,” said Mylenes, “and then it is 
so disagreeable. ’ ’ 

“No,” persisted Susanna, ‘‘you would 
feel what a pleasure it is to make others 
smile with joy.” 

Mylenes capriciously shook her head ; 

‘‘Providing that Helos smile. ...” 

They started again on their walk pur- 
suing another topic. But Mylenes appeared 
distracted and dissatisfied with herself. She 
passed her arm into Susanna’s, wishing to 
soften the effects of the words she had 
uttered. At the door of Philo, as she was 
about to leave Susanna and go back to her 
litter, hesitating a moment, she suddenly 
drew a magnificent pearl ring from her 
finger and said, in charming embarassment : 
“It is the most beautiful I have, but it 
ought to be. It is my first gift to those who 
suffer.” 

She called her slaves and was carried 
away. . . . 

Susanna, deeply touched, stood looking 
after the litter, until the harsh voice of 
Sarah recalled her to herself. 

‘‘Why do you have anything to do with 
5 


66 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


those pagans?” she asked. “That men see 
each other is their business, but we women 
should not associate with those daughters 
of Satan, who adorn themselves like idols. 
Solomon well says, that the virtuous woman 
is clothed in a purple silk garment, but he 
also says, that she stretches forth her hands 
to the poor, yea, she reaches it out to the 
needy. But these beauties laugh at the 
poor as they laugh at God. Indeed, they 
are right in not giving — the Lord rejects 
the offerings of the impious. ’ ’ 

Susanna pressed more closely the ring of 
Mylenes in her hand. Then these thoughts 
crowded in rapid succession to her mind : 

Was this the sweetness of her Christ? 
What then was the true ijieaning of His 

dear words “Come to me all all”? 

Did He not seek after His lost sheep ? 

In spirit she was listening to the Divine 
Voice and did not hear the other. 

On account of the permanent hostility of 
Sarah, however, it became evident that she 
could no longer stay with her. Consequent- 
ly, despite the urging of Philo, the travel- 
lers determined to take an abode of their 


DO THE GODS COMB BACK? 67 

own. Very soon they found a desirable 
dwelling, near the Ghetto, by the sea. 

The Jews inhabited two entire districts 
out of the five into which the city was 
divided, and in addition a small number, 
whose business or other interests demanded 
it, were dispersed throughout the remain- 
ing districts. The majority of them were 
traders, although there was quite a number 
of bankers amongst them. There was no- 
thing remarkable therefore in Gamaliel’s 
selection of his place of abode, and it 
afforded him complete freedom. 

Susanna arranged the little house with 
extreme simplicity. It took but a few days 
to put everything in order. She desired 
nothing further than to view the deep blue 
sea at her feet, to feast on the broad expanse 
of blossoming fiowers on either side of her 
and to enjoy the beautiful oriental light en- 
circling the whole. The contempt of the 
first Christians for the comforts of life was 
one of the chief wonders of their time. In 
their plain white rooms they had only the 
strictly necessary furniture, articles ab- 
solutely indispensable. One might have 


68 


AFTER The ninth HOUR. 


truthfully said, they eagerly abandoned by 
the roadside all things which would have 
burdened them in their journey fo Heaven. 

In the very best and most private room 
of their domicile, the voluntarily poor Gama- 
liel and Susanna placed all that remained 
of their former grandeur ; some rich em- 
broidery, a cedar table and a golden cup. 
This room they designed as their oratory 
and in it a lamp burned day and night. 

On the evening of the 24th day of Decem- 
ber, in the year 37, Susanna placed every- 
where bunches of ferns and bouquets of 
roses, to celebrate on the morrow, the day 
on which Jesus was to come and abide with 
them in His Holy Eucharist. 

She was preparing for the great occasion, 
when she heard that Helcea, the younger 
daughter of the Alabarch, was asking for 
her. Amazed at the call, Susanna went to 
greet her. Since the night of her arrival in 
Alexandria she had met the maiden sisters 
very rarely, and then both together. She 
had evidently some serious motive in coming 
to their threshold, as she was blushing and 
ill at ease, notwithstanding the gracious 
welcome of Susanna. 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 69 

“Pardon my coming,” she said, at last. 
“I was anxious to see you alone, and at 
Philo’s my Aunt Sarah was always present. 
I would rather die than open my lips before 
her. I wished very much to speak to you 
about Jerusalem. I must ask you some- 
thing more. I have not heard enough. I 
thought I would feel more at ease here. ’ ’ 

Susanna remembered their first interview 
and a suspicion which had then dawned 
upon her. Seized with this thought, she 
answered : 

“What have you to fear from me, Helcea? 
I will talk to you about Jerusalem, our be- 
loved country, and about anything else you 
wish.” 

There was a deep feeling of tenderness in 
her voice and it encouraged Helcea so 
much that she smiled upon Susanna and 
said : 

“Then speak to me about the Prophets, 
especially about those who have appeared 
within the last few years. Our brethren 
who went up to Jerusalem for the Passover 
brought back strange stories. They told 
us that a young Master was there working 


70 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

miracles and that he called himself the 
I^ight of the World.” 

She closed her eyes as if intently listen- 
ing to an inner voice and in a lower tone, 
continued : 

“Was it not to him your brother referred 
when he spoke about the ‘ Sweetness of 
God ’? Tell me, were you present at the 
Passover five years ago?” 

“I was there,” said Susanna, gravely. 

^^Tell me if you saw Him dieV^ 

Helcea dared not utter any name. No 
name was necessary. 

“I saw Him die,” replied Susanna. 

“And did you believe in Him?” breath- 
lessly asked Helcea. 

“I believe that Jesus Christ is the Mes- 
siah, the Son of God.” 

As a breath of life, the solemn, the eter- 
nal words, exalted the heart of the child. 
Her face assumed a glow of ecstasy. She 
joined her hands and exclaimed in a low 
voice : 

“I too, I believe in Him — I believe . . .” 

After the first effusion of joy, Helcea 
related how the truth had reached her. A 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 7 1 

group of Alexandrian Jews had gone to 
Jerusalem in the year 33, as was their 
annual custom. Among them was a young 
woman, one of the dearest friends of the 
family of the Alabarch. 

“When she returned, I could hardly 
recognize her,” continued Helcea. “She 
lived as one enraptured. She could only 
speak of Him. She was present at His 
trial and at His death. She was among 
His disciples, at His Ascension, and on 
Pentecost, she was in the multitude that 
heard the apostles speaking to everyone in 
his own language. It was Peter himself 
who baptized her. She told Roxanes and 
my brother also what she had seen and 
heard, but they did not believe. They en- 
quired further of others who were with her. 
All had heard of his wonderful miracles, 
but some had not seen Him, and among 
those who had seen Him, all had not be- 
lieved. ’ ’ 

“It is, indeed, too true,” said Susanna, 
“unto the Jews, a stumbling block, and 
unto the Gentiles, foolishness. ’ ’ 

“Faith is a gift, is it not?” replied 


72 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

Helcea. “Else, how would I have be- 
lieved, when others scoffed at Him? You 
do not know how sad it is to feel alone, to 
be surrounded by those who are inimical, 
or at least ignorant of what constitutes your 
very life. I feel isolated from all the world. 
I do not care to speak to anyone. The out- 
ward daily life I lead seems a falsehood. 
My true life is concealed within. Very 
likely you felt the same when first you 
came here. But you had your brother in 
whom to confide. I have no one. My 
dear friend Rachel, of whom I told you, 
died in an epidemic while ministering to 
the poor and afflicted. I have waited long 
to see you. But you saw Him ! You spoke 
to Him ! How I envy you ! ’ ’ 

“I saw Him,” said Susanna, becoming 
immediately solemn at the remembrance, 
“But you too saw Him, my darling sister, 
where soul meets soul. You see Him in- 
distinctly as if behind a veil. You are not 
able to live without Him. He has come to 
you. He will give you other gifts beyond 
your fondest dreams. When He enters the 
human heart He creates a love surpassing 


DO THE GODS COME BACK? 73 

all Other loves. When He speaks, all other 
voices are silenced. ’ ’ 

The shadows of evening were gradually- 
falling upon the tranquil sea and dimming 
the light of the horizon, but this did not 
prevent their singing together the divine 
praises. It was now time to depart, and 
Helcea returned home, her heart overflow- 
ing with joy in the hope that Gamaliel 
would complete her instruction and prepare 
her for baptism. 

Left alone, Susanna went into the oratory 
where Gamaliel awaited her. She had not 
revealed to Helcea the mystery of the 
Eucharist, and would not until her baptism. 
But, as she spread on the table the veil she 
had worn when Christ told her “I am the 
Life,” she thought of how the divine Life 
silently and unknowingly animates many 
souls, and she implored it for Helcea already 
so well prepared and for Mylenes still so 
far distant from it. 

Oh ! the breaking of bread on the night 
of the anniversary of Jesus’ birth ! Susanna 
completed the final preparations, burned 
the incense, lighted the lamps, and the 


74 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

poor sanctuary assumed a festal appearance. 
Everything was now ready for the coming 
of the Eord. He could now descend upon 
this old land of Egypt, “the temple of the 
world,” and change it into His living, 
pleasing and mysterious temple. Priests 
and kings, for centuries, had tried to make 
it worthy of their invisible gods. They 
had piled up C3^clopean blocks, erected 
gigantic pillars, performed wonderful feats 
of building and architecture, preparing for 
their promised visitations, but still they 
came not. Then, in their ignorance, they 
had chosen, at random, base divinities. 
Their craving for something to adore was 
so intense, that they prostrated themselves 
before the vilest of gods. Thus these great 
monuments, the evidence of man’s eternal 
yearning towards a Supreme Being, had 
degenerated into execrable temples, more 
wretched than when empty. 

But today He was here, the God of their 
sorrowful prayers. Gamaliel took in his 
hands a fragment of bread, then he gave 
thanks and uttered over it the very words 
of Christ. Susanna offered up the sacrifice 


DO THK GODS COME BACK ? 75 

in atonement for the idolatries of this an- 
cient land ; to allay the insatiable thirst of 
these poor deluded souls. She gathered 
together all the prayers, all the sacrifices, 
all the cries of the suffering, all the dreams 
of the pure in heart, and casting them at 
the feet of the Great Sufferer, prayed long 
and earnestly that He might cause His 
Light to shine forth and dispell the dark- 
ness enshrouding this fair land 

Alexandria was to her no longer a land 
of exile. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Et Verbum Caro Factum Est. 

A short distance from the Museum, in a 
small palace set amidst mimosas, cacti and 
oranges, Helos and Mylenes dwelt. Silent 
slaves came and went through their sump- 
tuous abode, attentive to their every call. 
The water in the marble basins reflected 
statues of Greek gods and goddesses. The 
square rooms, surrounded with columns, 
were simply but exquisitely adorned. Mural 
paintings, highly regarded in those times, 
took the place of the draperies of the Jewish 
houses. Mylenes’ room had neither the 
fanciful scroll work of oriental art, nor the 
frivolous pictures then very much in vogue. 
A fancy of Helos had caused a beautiful 
design of flowers to run along the frieze, 
happily relieving by its rich vivid colors 
the cold whiteness of the marble. 

It was unlike the house of the Alabarch 
with its accumulations of carpets, embroid- 
(76) 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST. 77 

eries and cushions. Here the smallest de- 
tails were in faultless taste. Chrystal vases, 
filled with orchids and roses, were placed 
here and there. The whole house, elegant 
and harmonious, seemed designed express- 
ly for enjoyment. 

Half reclining on the grass, her graceful 
head resting on her hand, Mylenes, with a 
great effort at attention, listened, or tried to 
listen, as Helos read to her. Soon her gaze 
was attracted by a sunbeam gliding through 
the light leaves and flowers. Just then, a 
libellula flew into the stream of light, and 
extending her hand, she deftly caught it by 
the wings. A low, cheerful laugh an- 
nounced her triumph. Helos, hearing it, 
raised his head and said: 

“You are not listening to me!’’ 

“I hear you perfectly, but these little 
blue-wings touched my hand, just as you 
were reading your tedious pages on virtue. ’ ’ 

“Tedious pages! Is it thus you speak of 
Plato?” exclaimed Helos. 

“Of Plato, or anyone else,” she answered, 
shrugging her shoulders. “I feel so happy 
today, I know not why. Your words 


78 AFTER the ninth hour. 

sounded to me like a broken bell,” and 
releasing the libellula : “I would rather 
hear the flutter of these wings. ’ ’ 

“The words of Plato are, nevertheless, 
the most beautiful in the world,” said 
Helos. - 

‘‘The most beautiful are never spoken.” 
Then, fearing to have hurt him, she gaily 
added: ‘‘Do you read that to me to make 
me as virtuous as your philosopher? If so, 
I must tell you that in the last few days 
I have become a very virtuous woman . ’ ’ 

‘‘I know it better even than you do; but 
virtue supposes an endeavor,” replied 
Helos. 

‘‘That is precisely what I have made — 
an earnest endeavor. Took at my hand.” 
Helos took the little hand and kissed it. 
‘‘Don’t you see? Where is my pearl? 
The pearl that Steticon shaped upon the 
model of Cleopatra’s? I have it no longer. 
I have given it away. ’ ’ 

‘‘You have given it away! To whom? 
To Hiera? That is right. I have felt that 
for some time you have been neglecting 
her.” 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST. 79 

“Not at all. I gave it to those who 
suffer, to those who are friendless.” 

“Who taught you to do this?” 

“Since I have known Susanna, I cannot 
tell what change has come over me. It is 
not what she says, for she seldom speaks. 
But I see her life, and I admire her beyond 
expression. I wish I were like her. ’ ’ 

“I pray you, stay as you are,” said 
Helos. 

“When I say ‘I wish to be like her’, you 
do not realize what I mean. I do not 
understand how she can live as she does. 
I would be desperate if I had not you. 
How can I explain? I observe her very 
closely, although she does not know it. 
She seems to rely upon some higher power. 
I think she speaks to invisible gods, and 
I, too, crave unceasingly for Faith.” 

“Ah! at last you understand”, exclaimed 
Helos, ‘ ‘that torment of doubt — that anguish 
of not knowing, of not possessing the truth 
about life, about death!” 

“And eternity”, added Mylenes. “Su- 
sanna made me understand the weight of 
this word. Listen, sweetheart, I have not 


8o 


AFTKR ThF ninth HOUR. 


the same kind of doubt as you have. In 
itself I do not care whether I doubt or not, 
as long as I can keep my happiness, 
lyearned theories do not interest me, and 
the gods and their affairs do not trouble 
me.” 

Then looking on him, her dark eyes 
glowing to their very depths with the sad, 
loving thoughts which moved her, she con- 
tinued; “When you are near me, a cruel 
question tortures my mind. Will death 
end all between you and me? Will our 
hearts die also? Is love to be buried with 
us? Will Mylenes, .some day, not be My- 
lenes to you?” 

“Hope is the dream of mankind,” said 
Helos, quoting Aristotle with a sad smile. 
“Nevertheless, philosophers aver that an- 
other life is possible, some say it is certain, 
but the gods forbid that I should lull your 
soul with a doubtful doctrine! They do 
not know, neither do I, what is beyond 
the grave. ’ ’ 

“But do you not feel the cruelty of this 
uncertainty? ^Listen, darling, I think Su- 
sanna knows. ’ ’ 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST. 8 1 


“The Jews are firm in their beliefs, 
but . - . 

“I do not mean the Jews,” interrupted 
Mylenes. “I have closely watched Philo’s 
wife these last few months, and it is hardly 
possible to find two persons more different 
than she and Susanna. Did you get the 
same impression from Gamaliel ? Ask him 
the reason. Make him speak. They are 
about to visit us, try to find out what he 
believes. ’ ’ 

“And then — and then”, said Helos, in a 
melancholy tone, “we shall only learn 
something new. But shall we be convinced ? 
It will be a system added to innumerable 
others. Everyone has his own, yet no one 
can say, ‘This is the truth’.” 

“They will perhaps be able to say it. 
Consider the unbroken peace of Susanna. 
Perhaps they know what we do not. ’ ’ 

“It is true,” answered Helos, “Gamaliel 
sometimes perplexes me by the wonderful 
statements he makes, but I dare not urge 
him, he is so reticent. ” 

“Here they are,”gaid Mylenes, hastily. 


6 


82 


AFTliR THE NINTH HOUR. 


It was plain to perceive that the intimacy 
of the young women had progressed rapidly 
in the last few weeks. They embraced 
each other with ahection, and then the 
visitors exchanged with Helos the oriental 
greeting, a graceful gesture to the forehead 
and lips. The women seated themselves a 
little apart. Helos, addressing his guests, 
said : 

“Masters, I have been expecting you to 
clear up some obscure points of doctrine. 
Potamon, the other day, delivered a lecture 
of which you no doubt heard, in which he 
distinctly defined his principles. Anexi- 
medra replied to it by repeating his famous 
maxims, ‘Perhaps it is so, perhaps not’ — 
‘One may be as true as the other’. I am 
very curious to know what you think about 
it.’’ 

‘ ‘There was a time’ ’ , replied Philo, “when 
the study of philosophy did not prevent the 
craving for divine teachings. I could en- 
joy intellectual raptures without one base 
thought, as I neither desired glory, nor 
riches, nor pleasure. I was, as it were, 
living in a higher sphere. At that time I 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST. 83 

could answer you better than I can now. 
Let us, however, endeavor to explain it by 
means of the Bible and the philosophers it 
has inspired. ’ ’ 

“He may be very eloquent,” whispered 
Mylenes to Susanna, “but I would rather 
listen to you.” 

“Do you know,” said Susanna affection- 
ately, “I have made many poor people 
happy, since you enriched me with the gift 
of your ring. Many glad smiles must have 
gone toward you; many sufferers now pray 
for you!” 

“What does it matter if they do?” 

“The blessing of the poor attracts the 
blessing of God, my darling,” answered 
Susanna, “and those for whom prayers are 
said are the most happy. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘Then I will give you one of my purple 
veils, they are very costly, and . . . .” 

“No, give me something more simple, 
something of no use to you. If you wish, 
some day we will go together and bring to 
the poor what you have saved for them. ’ ’ 

“In the Ghetto?” queried Mylenes. 

“The greatest misery seems to me to be 
found near the piers. ’ ’ 


84 AFTKR THK ninth HOUR. 

“What! help those dirty, false Egyptians, 
who hate you and would kill you if they 
dared?” 

“It makes no difference, so long as they 
are the most unfortunate. ’ ’ 

“Jews only aid Jews,” persisted Mylenes. 

“Do you wish to hear a story of my 
country?” asked Susanna, and receiving a 
sign of assent, she continued: “A certain 
man went down to Jerusalem from Jericho, 
and fell among robbers, who, stripping him 
of his garments and wounding him, de- 
parted, leaving him nearly dead.” 

Under the palms, the words of the divine 
parable of the Good Samaritan were related. 
Mylenes listened, wonderingly, as formerly 
did the Pharisees, when gathered around 
the Saviour. 

“It is one of your prophets who has 
spoken so?” she finally asked. 

“A prophet! Ah, more than a prophet!” 

“Who? Oh! who was it, then?” 

“Eet us listen to Philo,” answered Su- 
sanna, gently putting her hand on the arm 
of Mylenes. 

“ It is our Sacred Books which alone offer 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST, 85 

certitude, and their resemblance to the 
theories of the most profound thinkers is 
something truly amazing. Where shall 
truth be found if not in the consensus of 
human genius, guided by the spirit of God? 
Since you have Plato at hand, my son, read 
us the passage in Book II of the Republic, 
on the just man.” 

Helos read aloud: “I^et us strip the just 
man of everything but his justice, and in 
order to show a perfect opposition between 
him and the other, let him be the best of 
men and let him be thought the worst. 
Let us assume that his virtue has been tried 
by the severest of tests, and still has not 
been affected by the fear of infamy, or its 
consequences. 

It is by inspecting these two models, one 
of justice and the other of injustice, that I 
wish you to decide concerning the happi- 
ness of the righteous and of the wicked. 

After having supposed them such as I 
said, it is not difficult, it seems to me, to 
foretell the impending decision. Let us 
pronounce it, nevertheless, and if what I 
say seems hard, remember, Socrates, I do 


86 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


not Speak for myself, but for those who 
prefer injustice. For they will say, the just 
shall be whipped, tortured, chained; in fact, 
after imposing on him all sufferings, they 
shall crucify him, and by so doing they will 
show him, that on this earth the best thing 
is to seem to be just, not to be just.” 

‘‘Now listen to our great Isaiah,” said 
Philo. 

“He grew up before them as a tender plant, 
And as a root out of dry ground. 

He hath no form or comeliness 
That we should look upon him. 

Nor beauty that we should desire him. 

He was despised and rejected of men, 

A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. 
And as one from whom men hide their 
faces. 

He was despised and we esteemed him not. 
Surely he hath borne our grief and carried 
our sorrows, , 

Yet we did esteem him not. 

Stricken, smitten of God and afflicted, 

But he was wounded for our transgressions. 
He was bruised for our iniquities. 

The chastisement of our place was upon 
him ; 


ET VERBUM CARO FACTUM EST. 87 

And with his stripes we are healed. 

All we, like sheep, have gone astray. 

We have turned, everyone to his own way. 
And the I^ord hath laid on him the iniqui- 
ties of us all. 

He was oppressed. 

Yet he humbled himself 
And opened not his mouth. 

By oppression and judgment he was taken 
away. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘Strange! ’ ’ said Helos, with great feeling. 
“Of whom does Isaiah speak?” 

“Helos,” answered Philo, who seemed 
beside himself, “leave this earth and be 
enraptured. When the mind is filled with 
enthusiasm, it then possesses divine emo- 
tions.” 

Gamaliel, aroused, was uncertain how to 
act. Should he now speak or remain silent ? 
Had the time come? 

Philo continued: “God gives the soul its 
holy draught — reason. Who pours into this 
cup of joy, except the I^ogos, the Word? 
He is not distinct from the beverage. He 
is Himself the wine of gladness, of enthusi- 
asm, of ambrosial joy. He, the Word cf 
God.” 


88 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


“Master,” said Helos, “do you hear 
what Philo says ? Do you not bring with 
you from Jerusalem some new light?” 

The hour had come. Gamaliel, in pro- 
found recollection, with the broad, sweep- 
ing gesture of a prophet, said: 

“The Word was made flesh, and dwelt 
among us.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


The Message of Glaucus. 

Intense silence now reigned. All felt as 
if something extremely serious had hap- 
pened. Impulsively, Mylenes drew nearer 
Helos. 

‘Brother,” said Philo, “what do you 
mean?” 

“It is not what others have said that I 
relate; it is not on their testimony I base 
my proof, but upon what I have seen and 
upon what I have heard,” replied Gamaliel. 

“Speak, master,” begged Helos, “but 
first, if you have penetrated the invisible 
world, answer the supreme question: What 
is truth?” 

With a mournful gesture, Gamaliel re- 
peated: “What is truth? All mankind, 
through the lips of Pilate, has cast that 
ironical question at Christ, a prisoner. But 
I know you ask it in all sincerity. Eisten, 

(89) 


go AFTER the NINTH HOUR. 

then, and put aside your former ideas. A 
pure soul, and not a proud soul, will bring 
you nearer to Him. It is not from without 
but within that truth shall be manifested 
unto you.” 

“Master,” said Helos, sadly, “study and 
research have produced in me doubt only, 
and I am unable to offer you a simple, 
child-like soul.” 

“Have courage, my son. I too ap- 
proached Christ with a soul full of itself, 
— full of empty science. I did not want to 
believe. I did not wish to yield. The 
humbleness of His person was a stumbling- 
block to me. Owing to some sincerity that 
was in me, perhaps. He had pity on me. 
Christ has said ‘I am the truth’, but do not 
fear. He does not reproach us with our 
errors. He obliterates them. He is Holi- 
ness itself, but He is not severe with us for 
our miseries. He cures them. He is 
Strength itself, but He is waiting to help 
the weak. He does not break the bruised 
reed, and the smoking flax He does not 
quench. He brings forth judgment unto 
truth.” 


THE MESSAGE OF GEAUCUS. 


91 


“But who is this Christ?” asked Helos 
painfully. “He is not a man, then. No 
man would dare say ‘ I am the Truth’. 
Still He is not a God, since your Moses 
teaches that no man could approach Him 
and live. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘That is the reason why He came down 
to mankind and we have seen God, the Son 
of God, living, clad in our flesh, suffering 
and dying for us,” answered Gamaliel. 

Tost in silent contemplation, Philo raised 
his hand, as if to stop an imprudent word. 
Helos seemed amazed. 

“I do not wonder that these words seem 
incredible to you,” resumed Gamaliel. 
“The great apostle Paul has told us, that 
the mystery of Christ would be to the Jews 
a stumbling-block; to the Gentiles, foolish- 
ness. ’ ’ 

“Foolishness”, said the Greek sadly. 
“But I am so tired of our so-called wisdom. 
What did Christ say of Himself?” 

“I am the Way. I am the Tight of the 
World. I am the Son of God. ” 

With lips half opened, Helos listened, 
and Gamaliel continued: “He said also, 


92 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


‘Do not fear. I am humble, I am meek. 
I give you My peace. I came that your 
joy might be complete. He that loves Me, 
I will love’.” 

“I love Him,” whispered Mylenes. 

‘‘What did He enjoin upon mankind?” 
asked Helos. 

‘‘ ‘Dove God above all things, and love 
each other.’ — ‘I am with you always, even 
to the end of the world.’ — ‘Be pure of heart, 
even so far as to prevent an impure thought. ’ 
— ‘Be meek, even so as always to pardon 
others.’ — ‘Blessed are the peaceable, the 
merciful and the poor.’ — ‘Blessed are they 
who hunger and thirst after justice.’ — 
‘Blessed are those who mourn.’ ” 

‘‘Blessed?” asked Helos, incredulously. 

‘‘Blessed! becamse their sadness shall be 
changed into an endless joy.” 

‘ ‘ But where is He from ? Where did He 
live? Who were His disciples? You do 
not even tell us His name!” asked Philo, 
troubled. 

‘‘Jesus Christ”, answered Gamaliel. — 
And for a long time thereafter he told of 
the family, the birth and the apostles of the 
Son of God. 


THE MESSAGE OF GEAUCUS. 93 

“What proofs did He give of His mis- 
sion?” asked Helos. “Pity me, Master, 
and be patient, my heart believes, my mind 
doubts. ’ ’ 

“I saw the multitude along His path 
transported by the power of His miracles. 
The blind saw, the dumb spoke, paralytics 
walked, and the dead, buried for days, 
awoke to life at His voice. But the greatest 
of all His miracles was His life and His 
death. Everything predicted by Plato 
about your sage ; everything foretold by 
Isaiah, has been realized in Him.” 

“And did you see all this?” questioned 
Philo, in turn. 

“I saw Him laughed at by the rabble, 
which the day before had cheered Him,” 
answered Gamaliel. “I saw Him carried 
before the tribunals, scourged, dying upon 
a cross, so divine, so superhuman in His 
silence. Ah ! that low, brutal, roaring 
multitude! Had you but heard those fien- 
dish death-cries, those clamors of insensate 
hatred against that silent One, crowned 
with thorns, a reed in His hand for a 
sceptre! Even then He did not despise 


94 AFTKR THK ninth HOUR. 

them, but, remembering that it was His 
divine love for them. His wish to redeem 
mankind, which brought these sufferings 
upon Him, He forgave them, and raising 
His eyes to heaven, said, ‘Father, forgive 
them, they know not what they do’.” 

“If He was to die, why did He wish to 
die in shame?” asked the Greek, excitedly. 

Susanna answered: “That the most mis- 
erable among us might say, ‘He descended 
lower than I, for love of me’.” 

“I love Him,” said Mylenes, “and you 
do too, Helos. Do you not?” 

“You, first of all,” answered Helos. 

“Does it cause you to suffer? Does it 
pain you?” anxiously asked Mylenes. 

“Our souls are reft asunder,” responded 
Helos with a pang. . . . 

“Your souls are more united,” replied 
Susanna. “Our Christ said: I pray for 
those who believe, that they may be one 
in Me.” 

“You hear, dear?” resumed Mylenes, 
leaning against him, as if to give support 
to his doubting soul with hers, so radiantly 
hopeful. 


THK MKSSAGK OF GI.AUCUS. 95 

“Together we had indulged in the fond 
dream that there is a God whom we could 
love, and who would love us. ’ ’ She stopped 
abruptly and smiled at Helos, a glow of 
ecstasy in her eyes. Continuing, she said: 
“Helos, heaven has come to us.” 

“The more beautiful the dream, the more 
we are bound to ascertain its truth. My- 
lenes, mine, what would be the awakening 
for you if it were an idle one? Your whole 
life would be lost. ” Then turning to Ga- 
maliel, he added: “Master, I respect your 
teaching. I know you are more enlightened 
than all others, and absolutely sincere. 
Never have I been so irresistibly attracted. 
I must reason it out. I must exercise my 
sense and judgment. I ask you only for 
time to give the mystery due consideration . 
But blessed be your God. He comes to me 
through an ideal of beauty. ’ ’ 

In the days that followed, Helos’ mind 
was in a whirlwind. The activity he dis- 
played at times during this period, however, 
might have lead one, who did not know 
the nature of the young Greek, to say that 
long since he had banished from his mind 


96 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

all perplexity. He took many long, soli- 
tary walks; he went with Mylenes to the 
Greek tragedies, or to those Egyptian con- 
certs, where music of a strange sad rhythm 
was heard. He rode with zest and daring 
the superb and high-spirited horses he had 
just received from Arabia, and which he 
intended to drive himself in the coming 
quadriga races. Mylenes followed him 
everywhere, a new cheerfulness her constant 
companion. Almost daily she saw Susanna, 
although Helos requested that for a short 
time the burning questions should not be 
agitated. Faithful to this pact of silence 
even between themselves , Helos and 
Mylenes otherwise changed nothing in their 
outward lives. Mylenes had, however, 
ceased sending her gifts to the temple of 
Serapis, and Hiera, the friend of her child- 
hood, the fair and proud priestess, had be- 
gun to complain. On the eve of the ninth 
Phamenoth (March 5th) a number of slaves 
came to seek flowers to adorn the temple of 
the goddess and the brows of her priestesses, 
who were to take part in the procession on 
the morrow. Isis and Serapis were adored 


THE MESSAGE OE GEAUCUS. 


97 


in the same temple in a typically Greek 
manner. The ritual of Byblos, to which 
the Greeks were affiliated, was used The 
high-priest and the principal ministers, 
although paid large salaries, were Egyp- 
tians, and they hated and despised the 
Greeks. Notwithstanding this disdain, 
Greek beauty hovered over their rites of 
fear and mystery. They now smiled at 
long-haired Isis and Serapis, made by 
famous sculptors to resemble Jupiter. Only 
the primitive, or hieratic statues were ex- 
hibited in the great processions, and true 
Egyptians adored them alone. 

Mylenes was not at home when the slaves 
came. Uncertain of the time of her return 
they waited for her. At last Hiera came, 
in a fury of impatience at their long delay. 
Approaching Eyda, the leading slave, who 
was talking to a companion, Hiera struck 
her such a violent blow on the arm that the 
blood gushed forth. Eyda said nothing, 
but a lightning flash of hatred shone in her 
eyes. 

“Do you want me to have you scourged 
to complete the decorations? Do you not 
7 


gS AFTER The ninth HOtTR. 

think the adorning of the temple of more 
importance than your gossip?” 

They explained that Mylenes was not at 
home and they dared not cull the flowers. 
Hiera very soon dispersed them throughout 
the gardens to gather* the anemones, poppies 
and violets. Here and there, she plucked 
beautiful lilies, tall and white like herself. 
Her anger subsided under the influence of 
the flowery perfume wafted about by the 
spring breezes, and after giving her brief 
orders, she became calm and cold as usual. 

When Mylenes appeared, the baskets 
were half-full, though the parterres seemed 
as yet untouched. 

“You were late,” said Hiera, kissing 
Mylenes hastily. “The goddess and I do 
not wait, I directed my slaves to gather the 
flowers before your return.” 

A shadow of displeasure passed over the 
face of Mylenes: 

“I cannot tell you how I regret to see 
these lovely flowers at the feet of those 
ridiculous gods. And if it were not for 

you . . . .” 

“Ridiculous?” said Hiera, coldly. 


THK MESSAGE OF GEAUCUS. 99 

“Yes. You think so yourself. This pa- 
rade of grotesque images, Anubis, dog- 
headed, Serapis in his original form of an 
ox, and the ugly Isis, a stiff, black mummy, 
is simply absurd.” 

“Beware!” said Hiera, harshly. “Isis 
knows how to avenge. You know she 
blinds with her systrum those who mock 
her. Furthermore, I advise you to regain 
her favor by an offering or a sacrifice. The 
high-priest, Glaucus, has consulted her 
according to your request. ’ ’ 

“When did I make such a request? I do 
not remember it. ’ ’ 

“Before your departure for Memphis, six 
months ago. Do you forget everything in 
your nuptial Kden? He has postponed it 
thus long in order that the zodiacal signs 
might be in the positions indicated by the 
astrological books. Accordingly, Glaucus 
has observed the sky during a windstorm. 
Thrice he has studied the flight of the 
sacred ibises. They flew from left to right, 
— a bad omen as you know. ...” 

“And what then?” asked Mylenes, in a 
voice that betrayed uneasiness. 


LOFC. 


lOO 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


“This! Glaucus directs me to tell you 
that you are putting your foot in the line 
of the shadow, that is, misfortune will be- 
fall you, if you do not attend the ceremonies 
tomorrow with your hands full of flowers, 
and promise to serve the goddess.” 

A shudder passed over the frame of My- 
lenes. Hiera noticed it. 

“Do not fear. You have neglected the 
offering for some time past, but Isis is a 
good mother. The wealth of flowers which 
I bring her from you, will do much to ap- 
pease her. And if you add a good sum of 
money for the banquet of the mysts, 
why ” 

“You know that you despise them as 
much as I do,” sighed Mylenes, somewhat 
relieved. 

“I know it,” said Hiera, bitterly. “I 
despise them all, even Glaucus, but myself 
more than anyone. It is only you I do not 
contemn. You only that I love, little My- 
lenes,” she added very sweetly. “You are 
so true, so kind, so different from me and 
all those around me. ...” 

Mechanically she scattered all the lilies 


THK MKSSAGK OF GI.AUCUS. 


lOI 


around her, and selecting a few half-opened, 
she fastened them in the golden hair of 
Mylenes, smilingly admiring her work. 

“lyet me always share in your love,” she 
said, “and be sure to come to the procession 
tomorrow, since the Master wishes it.” 

“I will go for your sake, dear,” replied 
Mylenes, ‘‘and also because the high-priest 
makes me afraid. I would like to see you 
leave the sanctuary forever. I do not know 
why it pains me so much to see you there.” 

‘‘Do you not know that, once initiated, 
we cannot leave the place? Do you not 
know we are bound to secrecy under pain 
OF DEATH?” asked Hiera. 

“But why did you bind yomself when 
Helos begged of you not to do so? He 
worries a great deal about your being there, 
and I, too, have been troubled for some 
time regarding it. ” 

‘‘Is it for you to pity me?” asked Hiera, 
with haughtiness. ‘‘Did I tell you I was 
unhappy? What if I despise men! Are 
they not the same everywhere ? I love the 
temple and its ceremonies, the kneeling of 
the multitude, the mystery which envelops 


102 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


my title, ‘priestess of Isis’. — And now, can 
you keep a secret?” 

“Yes, with Helos,” naively answered 
Mylenes. 

“With Helos, of course. Oh, weakling!” 
said Hiera, resuming the protecting smile 
which gave her an unspeakable charm. — 

“lyisten, then. If Glaucus, who wishes 
it, asks you to be enrolled even in the first 
degree, REFUSE. The rite is unfit for you. 
Do you understand?” 

“Yes, oh, yes! If you only knew how 
far I am from desiring those things. ’ ’ 

“Enough,” said Hiera, imperiously, as 
she noticed the presence of Eyda. “Be- 
ware of the anger of Isis,” and kissing My- 
lenes she added: “Remember that I who 
love no one, have given thee a great proof 
of love today.” 

She lowered her. veil and like a goddess, 
cold and silent, in the warm light of the 
setting sun left the garden, her slaves fol- 
lowing her with baskets of flowers on their 
heads. 

“She is not happy,” thought Mylenes. 
“I wonder why.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The Procession. 

On the ninth of Phamenoth (March 5th) 
Alexandria, from early morning, presented 
an extraordinarily lively appearance. Egyp- 
tians in many-colored garments, men of the 
lowest classes, stevedores and slaves swept 
the streets, washed the marbles and scattered 
everywhere branches of the tamarisk, the 
favorite tree of Osiris. The wharves were 
decked with flowers, and triumphal arches 
of them were erected along the route of the 
procession of Isis. In her honor, too, the 
sacred barge was to be launched, and the 
celebration of the feast attracted a great 
concourse of sightseers. Women hastened 
to and fro, their infants clutching at their 
veils, looking odd, yet charming under their 
Egyptian “pschents”, long scarfs of bright 
red silk held round the forms by rectangu- 
lar pads. Slaves of the wealthy exercised 
their ingenuity in decorating the portals and 

(103) 


104 AFTKR the ninth HOUR. 

fagades of the palaces. The whole mass of 
humanity was in motion, some gay, others 
serious, a people at once the most impious 
and superstitious that ever existed. 

The day opened in magnificence. The 
bright sun of the morning added to the 
glory of the feast, enhancing the refulgence 
of the marbles and glistening in the ripples 
of the waters. Music, wierd and peculiar, 
long plaintive strains broken by bursts of 
mad exultation, began with the first rays of 
the sun. 

The procession at last started from the 
temple. All stood in line and waited. The 
route lay through the principal streets of 
the city, following the line of palaces to the 
great port. 

Mylenes, leaning against the low columns 
which enclosed the garden before her house, 
patiently waited. She was most richly 
dressed. Her tunic was bedecked with 
pearls, and a silk veil interwoven with gold 
covered her hair. Near her stood Helos 
attentively watching the moving throng. 
Always amused by such festivities, he had 
playfully decorated Mylenes with garlands 
of roses and mimosas. 


THE PROCESSION. 


105 


“Are you really going to compete in the 
races tomorrow?” she asked him. “I do 
not know why, but I am uneasy about it. 
These horses are so hard to manage. ’ ’ 

“They certainly are,” answered Helos, 
smiling. “But it is the only way to win 
the prize. And then there is a fascination 
in driving them. I hardly feel them in 
my hand. ’ ’ 

“Oh! If I only could go with you!” 
ventured Mylenes. 

“Truly, it is fortunate that it is pro- 
hibited,” said Helos. “You would take 
from me all my courage. I should be afraid 
of overturning the chariot. I would not 
dare drive too fast. Our ancestors were 
right when they interdicted women from 
attending the games. Man must be alone 
when there is a shadow of danger, or even 
as tomorrow, when there is no danger at all, 
only all his attention is required. The 
knowledge that a trembling heart is near 
makes one weak. Do you understand this, 
little Mylenes?” 

“No, not at all. You would not run any 
the worse if I were looking at you from 
some gallery. ’ ’ 


Io6 AFTER NINTH HOUR. 

“How can I? What do you wish?’* 

Both smiled, a remembrance coming to 
them simultaneously of that first day of the 
games, when involuntarily he had turned 
toward her, forgetful of the olive crown he 
was to receive. 

In the sweetness of those recollections, 
they became silent. 

The procession now came into view. In 
front children, grotesquely disguised, were 
running. Some had fastened on their heads 
what resembled a sparrow hawk; others, in 
honor of Anubis, a dog’s head. They ex- 
cited the jests and laughter of the crowd. 
The Egyptian women devoted to Isis fol- 
lowed in single file. They were arrayed in 
shining dresses and curious jewels. Almost 
all wore the golden serpent, the symbol of 
the goddess, some having it twined around 
the neck, and others encircling the waist. 
Their veils were thrown back and they 
carried flowers, which they scattered on the 
ground with sacerdotal gesture. 

The choirs of the temple, voices of chil- 
dren and young men, began the hymn to 
the goddess. Musicians answered them. 


THK PROCESSION. I07 

taking up the mournful and passionate 
chant, like an ardent call from lands one 
knew not where, transporting the soul in 
a dreamy sensation of infinite remoteness. 

Oh ! that Egyptian music ! It seemed 
one long, continuous revery, an inexhaust- 
ible source of soothing deceptions, having 
an undefinable influence which lulled into 
a temporary sleep souls confused. For ages 
the enchantment of its spell had been dis- 
turbed by an overwhelming thirst for life, 
which it was powerless to allay. Very 
seriously Mylenes listened. 

The interest of the crowd was now re- 
doubled. The newly initiated, the mysts, 
were now passing. They were still robed 
in their ceremonial costumes, robes so fine 
that they could have been drawn through 
a lady’s bracelet, over which was worn a 
strange tunic embroidered in the figures of 
leopards, lions and eagles, woven in gold, 
sparkling in the rays of the sun. They 
marched along unconscious, as it were, lost 
in mystic dreams, emaciated by long days 
of fasting spent in the cloisters of the temple, 
dazed by the noise, the light and the per- 


io8 


AFTKR THK NINTH HOUR. 


fumes, ravished by the bursts of passionate 
and sorrowful music. 

Helos surveyed these men and women 
with a sad yet scornful look. He knew the 
inanity .of their mysteries, the futility of 
their hopes. His Greek mind, so subtle 
and refined, analyzed the history of these 
poor beguiled creatures; their need of be- 
lieving and adoring something, — of con- 
necting themselves in some way with the 
invisible ; the playing upon their desires 
and hopes by the fallacies of greedy priests. 
He saw in thought the animated statues 
giving forth oracles and evoking the dead, 
rendering the temple of Serapis a place of 
fear and dread. Was it not enough to sway 
credulous minds? Was it not easy to con- 
vince them, when in the flickering light of 
the torches, at the summons of the cunning 
priest, those who wished to see some dear 
departed one, beheld on the wall the shadow 
from beyond the grave — in reality the 
shadow of a conspirator in the trickery? 
Be not astonished at their credulity! The 
breath from out the tomb passing over their 
souls swept away all doubt, all opposition. 


THK PROCESSION. 109 

The great amusers of the people, as Philo 
called the priests, now passed by silently, 
their heads shaven, dressed in tight-fitting 
linen robes, without ornament of any kind, 
not even a jewel. In fear the superstitious 
turned aside, and waited until they passed 
before looking at them. 

“Did not Hiera promise to leave them?” 
asked Helos. 

“She cannot. She is bound by the su- 
preme oath, and besides, would she like 
to?” 

“You will never follow her, either during 
my life, or after my death?” pleaded Helos. 

“What are you thinking? I know well 
how you dislike it. And is not my soul 
elsewhere at present?” asked Mylenes in 
surprise. 

“Your soul, my dearest, will always be 
where your affections are.” 

Mylenes tossed her head in injured pride. 
“Can I not have an idea of my own? I 
know something which you do not know.” 
She looked at him and smiled involuntari- 
ly. Her childish fit of anger melted as 
snow before the sun. “Let us watch for 
Hiera,” she said. 


no 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


Slowly the priestesses moved along. 
Their hair, decked with violets and golden 
ornaments, fell in heavy dark tresses over 
their white tunics. Two large clusters of 
lotus flowers bound their temples, holding 
in place a transparent veil on each side. 
All bore some emblem of their consecration 
to Isis. Some held on high silver mirrors, 
that the goddess might contemplate her 
beauty in them; some, with golden combs 
in their hands, went through the motions 
of combing invisible hair; some shook the 
golden sistra, little musical instruments, the 
distinctive sign of the maidens of Isis, and 
lastly, some carried the sacred lamps, never 
to be extinguished. At last came Hiera. 
She scattered Arabian perfumes from golden 
boxes held by children who walked before 
her. Her face appeared transfigured in the 
blue vapor surrounding her. She cast a 
vague smile on Mylenes in passing, as if 
discreetly thanking for her coming, then 
resumed her cold demeanor and passed on, 
enveloped in the light, floating, aromatic 
cloud of burning incense. The triumphing 
gods brought up the rear. Tike grain be- 


THE PROCESSION. 


Ill 


fore the scythe of the mower, all the heads 
in that large assemblage immediately bent 
low at the approach of the images, 
and the kneeling, prostrate multitude 
answered the rhythm of the Paean, the 
sacred hymn. All the gods of old were 
there, shown only this once outside the 
temple, not in the beautiful, harmonious 
forms given them by the Greek chisel, but 
in their disgusting elemental shapes, the 
only appearance under which true Egyp- 
tians worshipped them. 

In magnificent shrines carried by high- 
priests, the inferior gods, serpents, scorpions 
and crocodiles, first appeared; then came 
the great gods, the sources of all good: 
Horus, with the head of a sparrow-hawk; 
Anubis, dog-headed; Osiris, represented by 
the ox Apis, with black spots dotting a 
white forehead, and Isis, in all conceivable 
shapes, from the golden agate-eyed cow to 
the horned woman, with a moon above her 
head, and precious statues several cubits 
high, carved from one emerald, with terribly 
distorted and grimacing faces. 

“Is it not horrible?” said Helos. “What 


II2 


AFTKR THK ninth HOUR. 


a collection of monsters ! Compare those 
gods with the God of Susanna. ’ ’ 

“So you think sometimes about Him?” 
enquired Mylenes. 

“Yes, in spite of myself, His influence 
has seized on me. ’ ’ 

The high-priest, Glaucus, came last of all 
and closed the procession. His head, like 
those of the other priests, was entirely 
shaven; his white robe was fastened at the 
waist by a golden cincture. There was no. 
other ornament or mark of distinction about 
him. He carried a precious ewer, the neck 
of which was carved in the form of a ser- 
pent, and offered for adoration to the spec- 
tators the last symbol of Isis, the sacred 
water of the Nile, which transmuted into 
an oasis the arid land. At his coming, the 
people not only bowed but completely pros- 
trated themselves on the ground, crying 
confusedly and uttering words of thanks- 
giving and benediction. 

Mylenes remained standing, her bunch 
of mimosas in hand. A bitter dislike rose 
within her. Why affect a belief she no 
longer had? Why pretend to adore these 


THE PROCESSION. 


II3 

odious idols which she now knew to be 
false? She could not be so deceitful. A 
new, a pure belief silently grew up within 
her soul. She was sorry she had come. 

Glaucus drew nearer, looking down on 
the rabble lowered to the dust. When a 
few steps from Mylenes, he saw the proud 
little head which alone did not bow. He 
recognized her immediately. He would 
have recognized her anywhere. He looked 
at her imperiously and so severely that all 
her resolutions vanished. The sinister pre- 
diction of Hiera recurred to her. A mis- 
fortune would happen if she did not placate 
the goddess. An accident perhaps to Helos. 
The slow, enervating music caused her last 
feeble effort at resistance to melt away. An 
uncontrollable yearning for joy, a fear of 
impending suffering oppressed her. She 
bowed her head and unresistingly threw 
her flowers at the feet of the high-priest. 

For a long time, sad and ashamed, she 
held her hands before her face, not even 
looking at Helos, who saw nothing except 
her final submission and who smiled, re- 
membering her protests of but a moment 
before. 8 


1 14 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

But the cause of her sudden repentance 
was not what Helos thought it to be. It 
was the remembrance of the unknown God 
Whom she feared she had now offended, 
the God of Gamaliel and Susanna, Who 
tolerated no sacrilegious rivalry. Uncon- 
sciously she repeated as a child: “Have 
pity on me, since I tremble.” 

The procession passed along the wharves 
and reached the great port, where a barge 
of the most elegant workmanship lay ready 
to be launched. The multitude was ranged 
in a semi-circle, priests, children and people. 
Glaucus withdrew from them and alone 
approached the water. Majestic he ap- 
peared and almost superhuman. He lifted 
up his hands, spread them towards the 
water and then towards the sky, uttering 
incantations meanwhile. Then he entered 
the barge and purified it with sulphur, fire 
and water from the Nile. The after deck 
of lemonwood was hidden under a carpet 
of flowers. A carved head of Isis affixed 
to the prow attested the consecration of the 
vessel to the goddess. Glaucus pronounced 
the sacred formula: “Uet the ship enter the 


THE PROCESSION. 


II5 

sea’*, and slowly she glided down the ways. 

Truly the scene was a strange one: the 
embroidered robes of the mysts, the golden 
sistra, the shrines of the gods shining in the 
powerful sun of Phamenoth ; strong per- 
fumes fading away in spiral wreaths; the 
glossy hair of the priestesses of Isis, falling 
about them like beautiful flowing mantles 
ornamented with lotus flowers; all combined 
to form a magnificent spectacle which might 
easily be mistaken for the revival of a dead 
civilization. 

On the tops of the palaces and the pin- 
nacles of the temples, the ibises, pink and 
black, could be seen, looking wistfully be- 
yond that human crowd towards the great 
sleeping ocean 


CHAPTER IX. 


The Death of Helos. 

On the day following the feast there was 
the same brightness of the sun, the same 
clearness of the air. A very low quadriga, 
the forepart raised and resembling some- 
what in form a conch, was waiting before 
the door of the palace of Helos. Slaves 
held with diflSculty the superb and im- 
patient horses. Alexandria sacrificed to 
style by adopting the Roman chariots and 
manner of yoking the horses. In Rome, 
and also later on in Byzantium, the chariots 
were driven by men of low descent, or 
slaves. This was not the case in Alexan- 
dria. On the contrary, in the games purely 
Greek, like the sacred games held every 
three years, the ancient customs were ob- 
served closely. In those games only Greeks 
of free birth were allowed to compete. 
Oftentimes those of high descent engaged 
in the contests. However, it was quite 

(ii6) 


THE death of HEEOS. 


II7 

different in the gymnasium. Lampon, its 
manager, was a man of obscure birth, be- 
loved by the lower classes and ready to 
engage in any desperate undertaking. The 
Prefect, Avilius Flaccus, hated and feared 
him, yet so long as he amused the people, 
did not interfere with him, or prevent his 
greatly increasing the games. This policy 
he knew would accomplish his desire, 
which was to divert and interest the popu- 
lace. Eventually the fickle people would 
tire of Tampon, whose power would then 
be lessened and whose ruin would follow. 

The chariot races of the sacred games 
took place in the hippodrome between 
Kleusis and the Canope gate. The people 
were infatuated with them. Bigas or quad- 
rigas, that is, two- or four-horse chariots, 
were driven in these races. Extraordinary 
honors were paid the victor. On the day 
after the races, clad in purple and crowned 
with olives, he was led to the foot of the 
temple of Serapis. Excited Alexandrians, 
amidst wild cheering, proclaimed him king 
of the hour, and the lawless masses, trans- 
ported with enthusiasm, at times proposed 
to make him ruler of the city. 


Il8 AFTBR Tun NINTH HOUR. 

Mylenes approached the horses and gent- 
ly patted them. Even under her soft touch 
they nervously shook their heads and dis- 
tended their nostrils. She admired, as an 
expert, their fine appearance, their glitter- 
ing harness and the elegant chariot inlaid 
with ivory. Helos had put on a short 
tunic, the chlamys thrown back to allow 
free movement of the arms. The crown, so 
dear to Alexandrians and always worn dur- 
ing f^tes, was absent from his brow, his 
head being entirely bare. Taking from the 
hands of the slave the bridle reins which 
held the middle pair, the side horses being 
merely harnessed to the chariot, he took 
his place calm and beautiful as a young 
god. Seeing him thus, one was forcibly 
reminded of a scene from Homer, but of a 
Homer, at the same time, less simple and 
less great. The spectacle, however, was 
more suited to this Greek world in its 
decline, and Mylenes, accompanying her 
husband to the threshold of his home, was 
more appropriately engaged than if quietly 
and industriously spinning amongst her 
women. 


THE DEATH OP HEEOS. 1 19 

“Will you come a little way to meet 
me?” he asked. 

“No, I would rather await you here,” 
she answered, “unless you delay too long.” 

“Well, wait for me here. I shall sur- 
prise you by my speedy return. We shall 
also be less likely to miss each other. ’ ’ 

He gave rein to the horses, and away 
they sped. Far on the road, he turned and 
cheerfully shouted “Mylenes”. She an- 
swered him with a fond gesture of farewell, 
and stood, motionless, her whole being 
tense with love, tenderly following him 
with her eyes, until the chariot became a 
blur in the distance and finally disappeared 
from view. 

Then, as if imploring the assistance of 
an invisible power for his success, she 
longingly gazed towards the sky. A spar- 
row-hawk hovered lazily in the line of her 
vision, then plunged suddenly to the left, 
whirling rapidly round and round, emitting 
sharp shrill screams, in pursuit of an im- 
perceptible prey. Mylenes trembled vio- 
lently and said aloud : “Why is my soul so 
sad?” 


120 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


Ever since that solemn conversation in 
which Gamaliel had spoken the name of 
Jesus Christ, Susanna’s heart had been 
filled with affectionate anxiety for Mylenes. 

The fear was ever present to Susanna 
that she might, through some inopportune 
remark, smother the good seed then sowed. 
She decided to let grace operate by itself, 
without attempting to assist even by a word. 
This did not prevent her, however, re- 
doubling her supplications to the Tord that 
His Tight might shine upon Mylenes. 

During the days of the pagan feast she 
had, of course, lived in retirement. Mylenes 
had promised to visit her, but, ashamed of 
the weakness she had di.splayed during the 
procession, she deferred her visit a few days 
and Susanna patiently bided her time. 

On the afternoon of that March day, sit- 
ting on the terrace of Gamaliel’s little 
home, Helcea listened with delight while 
Susanna unfolded her hopes for the con- 
version of Mylenes. The daughter of the 
Alabarch was already a discreet and faithful 
servant in the Master’s vineyard. ’Tis true, 
her devoted and unceasing efforts in behalf 


THE DEATH OF HELOS. 


I2I 


of her brother, Alexander Tiberius, who 
still scoffed and jeered at holy things, had 
not borne fruit, but a number of her slaves 
were responding to her work, and her sis- 
ter, the proud Roxanes, was beginning to 
be impressed. And Susanna and Helcea, 
contemplating with heartfelt joy the ripen- 
ing harvest, rapturously pondered upon the 
promise of the Master that ‘ ‘those who con- 
fess Me before men, I will confess them be- 
fore My Father, who is in heaven.” 

Evening was approaching. Susanna ac- 
companied Helcea a short distance home- 
ward. The road they took was a little 
apart from the highway, and upon it the 
last beams of the sun were still shining. 
At the entrance to the Jewish quarter they 
parted. Susanna returned leisurely, her 
soul overflowing with thanksgiving, her 
countenance shining with that wonderful 
light resulting from a profound and ex- 
quisite harmony between the heavenly 
splendor within and the natural brilliancy 
without. 

She was slowly wending her way, un- 
conscious of her surroundings, when sud- 


122 


AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 


denly the noise and clatter of furiously gal- 
loping steeds aroused her from her revery. 
Startled, she halted and stepped aside. 
She was aware that it was the day for the 
races, but the quadrigas which made a 
clamor like that now drawing nearer and 
nearer, were wont to return by the trium- 
phal avenues from the gate of the sun to 
the gate of the moon, far from this un- 
frequented road. lyike a whirlwind a 
chariot dashed by her, the foam-covered 
steeds running with terrific speed. Susanna 
uttered a frightened cry, the chariot was 
empty. That an accident had happened, 
was certain. But where? How could she 
help? 

She trusted in God, begging Him to aid 
her. The road was forsaken at that hour. 
Absorbed in the excitement of the day, all 
Alexandria was at the hippodrome. The 
few houses along the road were closed and 
deserted. Susanna proceeded rapidly along 
the road, looking anxiously into the ditches 
on either side and across the silent plain. 
Nothing could be seen; not a single sign 
rewarded her search. 


THE DEATH OF HEEOS. 1 23 

She was in the open country and think- 
ing of abandoning what seemed a useless 
quest, when she heard a low groan as of 
some one in pain. Susanna followed the 
sound which took her in the direction of 
the sea. By the faint light she could see 
plainly objects on the ground, tufts of grass 
and bushes being clearly discernible. 

Across a heap of rocks piled at haphazard 
a dark form lay extended. Hurriedly she 
ran to it and anxiously stooped over it. 
Her sorrowful cry answered the agonizing 
moan of the injured man. She recognized 
Helos. 

The young Greek lay in a pool of blood, 
still alive, notwithstanding the violence of 
the fall which had thrown him upon the 
rocks. He regained consciousness, and 
seeing Susanna bending over him, faintly 
smiled. Raising his hair, moist and matted 
with blood and clinging to his forehead, 
she saw a horrible, gaping wound, and her 
first thought was to summon Mylenes. . . . 
Helos divined her intention. “No,” he 
said, in a weak voice, “do not let her see 
me thus. I<et her remember me as when 


124 AFTER the NINTH HOUR. 

we parted. Hide from her the wound. 
Besides .... there is no time . . . . ” 

Susanna took his hand. “I^et me help 
you, there is no immediate danger.” she 
said. 

“I am dying. I feel it. I^ife was so 
fair.” He spoke in far away tones, in 
broken words. He closed his eyes. 

“Speak to me about Him,” he said. 

“About Him?” asked Susanna, hardly 
daring to believe. 

“Yes, about Him, the Hope of those who 
die. ’ ’ 

Susanna lifted up the pale face, un- 
restrained tears flowing from her eyes. 
Sympathetically she bent closer to him and 
fervently whispered: “He sees you. He 
waits for you to come to Him. He takes 
your life to give you eternity. He closes 
your eyes to earthly things, but He opens 
them to His heavenly light.” 

“And Mylenes?” he said, shuddering in 
a spasm of pain. 

“You will be united to her in Him, dear 
brother. You remember how often she has 
told you, ‘I would give my life to love you 


THE DEATH OF HEEOS. 1 25 

always’ ? He is the eternal love, He will 
give her back to you.” 

“Speak on,” he murmured, 

“He will comfort her. He will not let 
her mourn as those without hope. He is 
so sweet to those who suffer. If you only 
could have heard Him as He often said, 
‘Weep not’.” 

“How loving your God is!^’ 

“My God is your God, dear brother, if 
you believe in Him. ’ ’ 

“For a long time I have believed in 
Him,” he replied, “but I would not 
acknowledge it. I was too proud. Now, 
near death, the soul becomes humble.” 

^‘My God! If I only had some of the 
remedies of my country with me, but there 
is nothing here but a little water.” 

“Water? Was it not Gamaliel who 
spoke of the water that saves ; of the life- 
giving water?” 

“Yes,” answered Susanna, “of the water 
that typifies the blood of Christ. If you 
only will be baptized, brother. Heaven will 
be open to receive you.” 

“I will,” he said. 


126 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


Softly and sweetly she instructed him 
and comforted the departing soul. In com- 
pliance with his request, she then poured 
on his forehead the regenerating waters of 
baptism, at the same time reciting the mys- 
tic words of the sacrament. The water 
commingling with his blood, aptly sym- 
bolized the close relationship of life and 
death, the immutable law of God, that to 
live eternally we all must die — life through 
death, forever. 

Slaves, in cheerful parties, now began to 
pass by. Susanna sent some of them to 
notify the family of Helos. Night had 
fallen, a quiet, luminous night. 

Helos was growing weaker. Intermit- 
tently the blood gushed from his mouth. 
He asked the time. 

“Mylenes must soon begin to suffer,” he 
murmured. 

“What do you wish me to tell her, 
brother?” asked Susanna. 

“Speak only her own name. Say only 
‘Mylenes’.” And after breathing heavily, 
he asked: “Can I speak to Christ? Can I 
speak to Him in my misery?” 


THE DEATH OF HEDOS. 1 27 

“Speak to Him ; trust in Him. He suf- 
fered for you; He died for you. Think of 
Him on the cross.” 

A gleam of light transformed the face of 
the Greek with divine sweetness. Susanna 
fancied she saw Christ leaning over him, 
supporting him in His compassionate arms. 

The voice of Helos was now scarcely 
audible. Slowly and softly, like the sound 
of a gentle breeze, he whispered: “I come 
to Thee with the soul Thou hast given 

me so weak — so earthly — but yet so 

enamored of Thy beauty. Thou hast con- 
quered me with Thy beauty, — and I give 
Thee — Mylenes — my only good. . . . Keep 
her. May Thy purity preserve her. May 
Thy sweetness comfort her. Thou art good 
to have come to us. Thou . . . . ^ ’ 

Dying, he faintiy breathed: “Thou wilt 
have pity.” 


CHAPTER X. 


Priestcraft. 

In her room, the room decorated with 
garlands of flowers, Mylenes knelt, her face 
against the cold face of Helos, unable to 
shed a single tear to relieve her awful sor- 
row. How she had heard the flrst ill tid- 
ings, had learned that Helos had been 
thrown from his chariot, had realized that 
he was dead .... dead, had received his 
dead body, without a cry, without a tear, 
on the same spot from whence she had seen 
him go forth in all the pride, in all the 
beauty of vigorous young manhood, loving- 
ly turning and tenderly bidding her his last 
farewell — “Mylenes”, how she had ordered 
them to lay his dear, lifeless body in that 
room, and had frantically clasped his cold 
hands in her burning ones, refusing to 
allow any one to take her away from him, 
— these were questions which would forever 
remain unanswered. She could never 
tell 


(128) 


PRIESTCRAFT. 


129 


In her infinite distress, she would see 
no one. All the friends of former days 
came, but were refused admittance. Philo 
and Gamaliel were dismissed and had de- 
parted sadly. Even Susanna sought en- 
trance in vain, but she remained, and 
throughout the long night, which seemed 
as if it would never end, wandered in the 
gardens, ever and anon drawing as near as 
she could to the room where her dear friend 
was suffering an agony, which she was not 
allowed to share or comfort. Through the 
long vigils of that night she constantly 
prayed, and with many tears invoked for 
Mylenes the aid of Him who takes upon 
Himself our sorrows and afflictions. Day- 
light came and passed again into night. 
No light was seen in the death chamber, 
only the uncertain glimmer of the moon 
outlined the rigid body on the low couch 
and the frail form leaning over it, trying to 
recall life to that cold face, lifting up the 
long hair, always at the same place. No 
blood now trickled forth, but a large brown 
stain, notwithstanding the oil and water 
used to remove it, disclosed the fatal wound. 

9 


130 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

At times, in a low voice, Mylenes mur- 
mured broken words, portions of phrases 
reminiscent of their happy life. Then she 
would lapse into silence, overcome by a 
weariness akin to death, her trembling 
hands involuntarily, unconsciously, touch- 
ing again and again that cruel wound, the 
cause of her indescribable misery. She was 
indeed like one distracted. 

Suddenly a woman appeared at the large, 
open gate of the garden. It was Hiera, 
and not a moment did she hesitate to cross 
the threshold. Pushing aside the slaves, 
who tried to stop her, she looked at them 
with such withering scorn that they in- 
stinctively shrank back. Reaching the 
room of Mylenes, she fearlessly entered and 
drew near the bier. Her grand, proud face 
softened, and something like a thrill of pain 
shook her queenly form. She bent down 
and kissed the bowed head of the grief- 
stricken mourner, repeatedly saying “My- 
lenes, Mylenes”. But it was of no avail. 
No recognition came from the sorrow- 
crushed figure. She bent lower and im- 
periously, but very tenderly, took in her 
hands the dear, changed face, and raised it. 


PRIESTCRAFT. 


I31 

“I have not come to comfort you,” 
gravely said the priestess of Isis. “I know 
there is nothing that can comfort you now. 
Listen to me. It is about him I am going 
to speak. I have come for the purpose of 
giving him back to you, at least for a time. 
We possess, by means of certain mysterious 
incantations, the power over life and 
death.” 

The words sounded to Mylenes as if com- 
ing from another sphere. Her haggard 
eyes opened, and revealed awakening in- 
telligence. 

“Not to see him return alive, has doubly 
increased your grief,” continued Hiera. 
“You would like to have listened to him 
at the last, the supreme hour, and to have 
told him what now breaks your heart. 
Come, Glaucus can recall the soul, if he 
wishes. I have not yet seen, nor do I know, 
by what supernatural power he does it. 
I have always been engaged elsewhere on 
those occasions. But everyone talks and 
wonders about it. His powers are unlim- 
ited. He commands the spirit world. 
I have brought my litter and my slaves. 
Will you come with me?” 


132 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

Mylenes looked at her as if unable to 
comprehend. 

Hiera spoke again: “Night is coming. 
We must hasten. The mysts are banquet- 
ting in the crypts of the temple. Glaucus 
is with them. I have told him I would 
bring you. Helos will speak to you, if he 
sees you, if he hears you. You will see 
him. Come. ’ ’ 

Poor Mylenes! Was anything left of the 
wreck of her happiness ? Did she now re- 
member her remorse after the procession of 
Isis? Did she not recall the wish of Helos 
that she keep away from the temple ? Had 
she not promised him to shun all the de- 
votees of Isis ? Even if her mind had not 
been a blank to everything but the dire 
calamity of the day before, the hope of see- 
ing him alive again would, like a hurricane, 
have swept every objection away. 

She stood up, imbued with that insane 
hope, her looks brightening. 

“It is all that my love can do for you,” 
added Hiera, “but in the temple, follow 
my instructions. When Glaucus interrogates 
you, be in no haste to answer him.” 


PRIESTCRAFT. 133 

Mylenes shook her head vaguely. What 
could it matter to her what he asked ? 

Hiera still persisted, “You understand 
me thoroughly? Well then, come.” 

The priestess issued brief orders and the 
corpse of Helos was placed upon a litter, 
which slaves raised and carried on their 
shoulders. Mylenes took one of the lifeless 
hands drooping flexibly, pendently, over 
the side of the litter. Hiera walked at her 
side. Ere long they reached the hundred 
marble steps of the temple of Serapis. 
Slowly ascending, they entered. 

A short distance behind, veiled, hidden 
by the darkness, Susanna followed, her 
soul rent with grief. She had heard the 
orders of Hiera and knew their meaning. 
Into what new anguish, into what base de- 
ception was her dear Mylenes being led? 
At every personal risk she followed, suppli- 
cating Christ Jesus to shield the already 
broken heart. She could not believe that 
God would allowthose sacrilegious parodies, 
those priestly comedies, enacted with Satanic 
ingenuity in that mysterious orient, to blind 
that poor, suffering soul to their utter, ab- 
ject falsities 


134 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

The prayer of the Christian maid ascended 
as calmly, surely and all-powerful as that 
of the Divine Master. Reaching the highest 
step, Susanna hid in the shadows and made 
a large sign of the cross after the receding 
litter, saying: “In the name of Jesus 
Christ.” 

In the temple the banquet of the mysts 
was drawing to a close. The newly initiated 
followers of Isis crowded around the priests. 
These debaucheries occurred at stated inter- 
vals, and were much inveighed against by 
the early Fathers of the Church. Ivory 
tables were covered with heavy and mag- 
nificent gold and silver vessels. Couches, 
draped and canopied in royal purple, were 
promiscuously strewed around. The newly 
initiated, men and women, crowned with 
lotus and clad in robes richly embroidered 
in the figures of their sacred beasts and 
birds, lent a distinctive character to the 
feast. Countless torches threw a dazzling, 
flickering light; myriads of slaves burned 
strange perfumes in massive, peculiarly 
carved vessels, and the strange, fascinating 
rhythm of Egyptian music resounded more 


PRIESTCRAFT. 


135 


weird, more entrancing, through the lofty 
sculptured crypts. The rarest luxuries con- 
tributed by remote provinces were served in 
extravagant profusion. On those sumptu- 
ous tables oysters from Abydos, prunes 
from Methylene, turbots from the shores of 
Attica, thrushes from Daphnis, kids from 
Melos, and even wild boars, made the 
fashion by the famous dinners of Cleopatra, 
were there in abundance. The celebrated 
wines of Chios, Lesbos, Crete and Syracuse 
filled the golden chalices. Brains were 
dizzy, faces flushed. The virtues of the 
goddess were sung in a noisy, desultory, 
semi-maudlin manner. Glaucus alone was 
quiet, intently listening as if for an expected 
messenger. Suddenly one of his priests 
came forward, and spoke to him. Glaucus 
quickly arose and uttered a few words. 
The din ceased, the mysts stood up and led 
by the high-priest went into the sacred 
crypts. 

A few torches here and there along a dark 
gallery shed only a dismal light, and con- 
trasted strongly with the flood of light 
streaming from the banquet room. A monu- 


136 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

mental statue of Serapis occupied the back 
of this subterranean cave. This statue was 
of such huge proportions that the head of 
the god reached the vaulted roof and its 
arms grazed the walls on either side. A 
black coat of varnish covered the precious 
wood and the gold and silver of which the 
idol was made. Its eyes of precious stones 
seemed to look downward and sparkle with 
life. In the uncertain gleam of the torches 
Serapis appeared fascinatingly terrible. 

On the sacred stone of the temple, in the 
centre, Helos, with uncovered face, was 
laid. In spite of his confirmed indifference, 
Glaucus looked with pity upon one so young 
and fair the victim of unsatiable death, and 
upon the young woman, standing beside 
the inanimate body, whose blond head but 
yesterday refused to bow to the idols, whose 
large, beautiful eyes, wide-opened, now 
looked without seeing, lost in an ocean of 
sorrow. 

“What do you wish?” he asked. 

“She wishes to see Helos alive again,” 
said Hiera. “I told her you could recall 
him to life.” 


priestcraft. 


137 


“I can for a while, if great Serapis be 
with me,” answered Glaucus. “But what 
will she do in thanksgiving? If Serapis 
deigns to grant your request, will you de- 
vote yourself to Isis, sister and wife of the 
god?” 

“Say no”, said Hiera in a muffled voice. 
Mylenes did not hear her, and even though 
she had, the answer would have been the 
same. 

“Yes”, she said, “give him back to me, 
and I will devote myself to Isis. ’ ’ 

“Then draw near and see, I am going to 
implore the god as you desire. ’ ’ 

The few torches but partially broke the 
darkness. The high -priest threw on the 
heated tripods such a quantity of incense, 
that the air became dim. Mysts stood in a 
vast circle, curious and fearful. Mylenes 
stood like a marble statue, uttering broken 
and plaintive words. 

Glaucus turned towards his priests, but 
whether dulled by the* fatigue of the last 
few days, or by the strong wine of the ban- 
quet, they failed to respond to his gaze, not 
seeming to understand what he desired. 


138 AFTKR THK ninth HOUR. 

Angered at their stupidity, with an im- 
patient sign, he dismissed them, and they 
disappeared and did not return. Glaucus, 
in hollow tones, then uttered a succession 
of mysterious Egyptian words used for un- 
told centuries in the old rituals, simultane- 
ously describing in the air a narrowing 
circle. Servants now handed him the cyste, 
the basket containing those mystical articles 
known only to the initiated. He took from 
it herbs culled from the enclosures of the 
old far away temples, where Serapis issued 
his oracles. Placing these upon the breast 
of Helos and in his mouth, the high-priest 
bent over the remains as though he wished 
to infuse them with his own life. Dreadful 
incantations then followed, beginning in 
slow, smothered tones, gradually growing 
quicker and louder and ending in a burst 
of fury. Appeal succeeded appeal, in words 
sacred, dreadful, superhuman in the omi- 
nous silence of the cavern. Fear fell on the 
bystanders. Helos did not move. 

Mylenes stared wildly at him, leaned 
rigidly forward, her mouth half open, pant- 
ing with such a violent, passionate craving 


prikstcraft. 


139 


to see him revive that her whole being, 
life, strength, everything, was concentrated 
in that desire. 

Hiera closely followed every movement 
of the high-priest. As the moments passed 
she drew nearer and nearer to him. With 
contracted brow and a voice quivering with 
anger she spoke to him : 

“Where is your boasted power? Why 
did you tell me you could bring him back 
to life? Were you in need of the tricks of 
your priests to call him back? Do you 
know they are now in a drunken sleep? 
Why do you deceive me? So I, who wished 
with all my heart to console my dearest 
friend, was chosen by you to make her 
grief unbearable ? I had the greatest faith 
in you, but now I see you can do nothing! 
nothing! nothing!” 

Glaucus turned pale under these insults, 
which he alone heard as the voice of the 
priestess was low and constrained. He 
extended his hands, placing them on the 
head of the dead man, and made a last, 
long, supreme appeal, which seemed to end 
in a malediction. The flutes and the harps 


140 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

of the temple pealed forth a despairing 
sound, resembling a mournful sobbing — a 
sobbing which embodied in its overpower- 
ing sadness the wail of ages past. The last 
prayer, the last incantation of Glaucus re- 
mained unanswered. 

“I can do nothing,” he said coldly. — 
“There is some hindrance.” 

“Helos! Helos!” 

The heart-rending cry of Mylenes echoed 
through the vaults and broke against the 
statue of Serapis, in a final supplication of 
human sorrow to the powerless gods. The 
young woman sank down on the pavement 
of the temple. 


CHAPTER XI. 


“Thou wilt have mercy.’’ 

Hiera stooped and gently raised the 
grief -bruised form. “Forgive me,” she 
begged. “I have added to your sorrow, 
when my one desire was to banish it. Eet 
me accompany you home. ’ ’ 

“Stay here!” commanded Glaucus 
harshly. 

“Then let me intrust you to my maids. 
They will not talk and until I come you 
will not be alone. ’ ’ 

Hiera said a few words to her slaves. 
They took again the body of Helos on their 
shoulders. The mournful group filed 
through the labyrinthian crypts. The 
high-priest and the priestess of Isis were 
alone together. 

‘ ‘ Do you think I will allow you to insult 
me with impunity ? Do you not know that 
anything said against me reflects upon the 
gods ? Do you not know that I have over 

(140 


142 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

you the power of life and death?” asked 
the high-priest. 

“I know it,” coldly replied Hiera, “but 
what matters it to me? You cannot control 
my thoughts. You know very well that I 
despise you and this temple, where every- 
thing is deceit. Your gods have remained 
silent because your priests were drunk. 
Had they been sober, you would have suc- 
cessfully practised your fraud. Mylenes 
has left here more broken-hearted than 
when she came, because I believed in your 
power. ’ ’ 

“If you had been able to comfort that 
unfortunate soul, even by deceit; if you had 
been able to send her away less sorrowful, 
by uttering indistinct, unintelligible words, 
by reflecting a shadow on the wall, would 
you not have done so?” asked the high- 
priest. 

“I would not have deceived her,” an- 
swered the priestess. 

“And then? And then?” insisted Glau- 
cus. ‘ ‘What truths do you know to assuage 
that agony? Where can they be found? 
Where is this truth of yours?” 


‘ ‘THOU WILT HAVK MERCY. ” 1 43 

He Spoke in a low, almost threatening 
voice, yet with such melancholy feeling 
that it compelled Hiera to raise her eyes to 
him and remain silent. 

Continuing in the same tone he said: “It 
is easy to say to me ‘you deceive’, but is it 
for myself I do it ? Is it for my own bene- 
fit, that I encourage their faith? Is it for 
my gain, that I exact their wealth? I wear 
no other garb than this linen dress. I pre- 
side over their banquets without sharing in 
them. I live in the midst of this luxury, 
the poorest of the poor, possessing nothing 
myself — nothing without, and nothing with- 
in, the most miserable of men.’’ 

“It is true,’’ answered Hiera. 

“But the ceremonies are magnificent, the 
altars glitter with gold, the gods have orna- 
ments which kings might envy, and rich 
perfumes, which remind you of Arabia 
Felix, burn constantly in the temples.’’ 

“Do you believe in the gods?’’ asked 
Hiera. 

“Do I believe in the gods?’’ repeated 
Glaucus, with a bitter, contemptuous laugh. 
“In what do you wish me to believe? In 


144 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

that dog, that ox, that sparrow - hawk ? 
I believe only in the real, the living, the 
material. The multitude that comes here 
is one of the manifestations of that in which 
I believe — life. They need someone to lull 
them to rest. The beauty of the sacred 
ceremonies makes them forget the rough 
toil of the day, the misery of the poor abodes 
in which they hide themselves, far from the 
frowning palaces, the hopelessness of their 
fate, and their future, barren of a single 
promise of betterment for their piteous con- 
dition. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Indeed ! ’ ’ exclaimed Hiera, sarcastically. 
“Is it to solace such creatures, you multiply 
your hypocrisies ? Is this your purpose in 
putting priests inside the statues to answer 
the questions of the faithful?'’ 

“And even if it were so?’’ interrupted 
Glaucus. “Because we know it is nothing 
but trickery, must they also know it? 
Have you not seen the looks of anguish on 
the faces of those who seek answers to their 
dreams of the ideal? Have you not ob- 
served their pained expressions when dis- 
appointed in their expectations of receiving 


“THOU WIUT HA VK MERCY. ’ ’ 1 45 

the interior answers they so earnestly 
craved — answers which did not come, be- 
cause there was nothing for them? Of 
course, I do not refer to the depraved slaves, 
or those snobbish Greeks, whom instinc- 
tively I hate, but whom I force to adoration 
through fear; I mean those poor, ignorant, 
innocent fellahs, the product of ages of mys- 
ticism. I need say nothing and let them 
go away, doubting, sad at heart, or I can 
speak and then . . . . “ 

“And then,” said Hiera, “you deceive 
them.” 

“And then,” resumed Glaucus, “Heaven 
opens before them, and they take away bits 
of truth in their obscure brains. What 
matters’it with what I quench their thirst, 
so long as they are satisfied ? During the 
day, while bending under their too heavy 
burdens, they pause and dream, their eyes 
fixed on the blessed remembrance of what 
I tell them. They imagine the invisible 
one near them. He has smiled upon, he 
has spoken to them by my agency. In the 
evening, instead of sleeping like beasts, 
they are awake, contemplating the infinite, 
10 


146 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

wherein is The One, who, having answered 
them once, they gladly think will answer 
them again and forever. It is false, they 
are deluded, but they suffer less.” 

“Knowing its fallacies, it is you, then, 
who have the most cause to complain, who 
suffer most?” asked Hiera. “Has it always 
been thus with you?” 

“The most miserable is he who, know- 
ing, no longer believes. I spent many 
happy years in my novitiate among the 
priests in far away Busirus. They lived in 
peace and silence, absorbed in the study of 
the firmament, mechanically performing the 
ceremonies, never annoying themselves 
about life, or about death. One of them 
spent seven years in his cell without ex- 
changing a word with a living being. After 
the seven years he was overjoyed. He had 
calculated the exact distance from a star to 
the earth. In such abstruse studies I lived 
comparatively happy, until one evening I 
saw the graceful form of a woman, an urn 
on her shoulder, passing. My musings 
ceased. I dreamt. Oh! that dream! O! 
that woman! At another time I saw a child. 


* ‘thou WIIvT havk mkrcy. * ’ 147 

a beautiful light-haired darling. Taking 
its blond head between my hands, the long- 
ing for a child’s caress maddened me. Yes, 
the inanity of my life oppressed me. By 
weighing everything, I have come to de- 
spise everything. I was sent here. When 
I came, I inaugurated no changes; when I 
leave, everything will be as I found it. 
At first, I looked upon the thirsting millions 
with a feeling of indignation, then with 
pity, now with understanding. I cannot 
quench their thirst. I use the only method 
I know to temporarily allay it. ’ ’ 

“But what about your priests, impure and 
avaricious?” said Hiera. 

“Men cannot be controlled by fear. It is 
my only weapon. In whose name, or by 
what other means can I elevate them? To 
create energy, faith is necessary. Only ex- 
ceptional beings desire good for its own 
sake.” 

“Pardon me. Master,” said Hiera, sor- 
rowfully. “I have only pride and con- 
tempt, you have the emotion of pity. But, 
however . . . . ” 

“Is it for better, or for worse?” inter- 


148 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

rupted Glaucus. “The question that tor- 
ments my conscience is, what is to be 
done?” 

“How unhappy we are!” exclaimed 
Hiera. “We have no hope; to give con- 
solation we must lie.” 

“We would not be forced to lie, if we had 
a god, but / have no god,^^ said Glaucus. 


The funeral bier, followed by the maids 
of Hiera and then Mylenes, had reached 
the steps of the temple. The descent began 
slowly, every step seeming to plunge them 
into deeper darkness. But now Mylenes 
was not alone. An arm was passed through 
hers. A voice soothed her with kind words. 

Had the young Greek woman a clear 
perception that Susanna was there? She 
was dazed and listless, but upon arriving 
home, consciousness returned. She re- 
quested to be left alone. Again approach- 
ing the beloved dead, she grasped one of 
his hands, but overcome by the terrible 
emotions of the night, she staggered, still 
holding the hand of Helos, and fell in a 
swoon at his side. 


149 


“THOU WITT HAVE MERCY.” 

Susanna summoned aid, and, with the 
help of Mylenes’ old nurse, carried her into 
a room more retired, a room adjoining the 
one, where the roses now were dying. 
Susanna laid her on the bed, and sat down 
beside it to await the awakening. When it 
came, it brought no comfort. A violent 
delirium had seized her. In sorrow-laden, 
heart-piercing tones, she repeatedly called 
upon her loved one to come back to his 
little Mylenes, implored him to take her 
and not leave her alone in this life, so cold, 
so cruel, childishly complained that he 
would not listen, and begged the high-priest 
in weeping, piteous accents to recall her 
dear, noble Helos. 

Philo, Gamaliel and many friends of the 
young Greek, his colleagues at the Museum, 
attended the funeral. A great crowd of 
people followed the victor of the race to the 
tomb. The noise of the assemblage failed 
to arouse Mylenes from her torpor. She did 
not see her joy, her all of earthly happiness, 
carried to his last resting place. 

After the funeral, Hiera remained con- 
stantly with Mylenes. She wondered why 


150 AFl'KR the ninth HOUR. 

she saw there, night and day, the pale, 
calm face of “the Jewish girl”, as she 
called Susanna. Without any explanation 
she sent Susanna the potions the Egyptian 
priests prepared every day for Mylenes. 
She was puzzled at the affectionate manner 
and gentle, kindly words of this Jewess. 
One evening more deeply agitated than 
usual, she was sitting alone, as she sup- 
posed, and gazing sadly on the emaciated 
face of Mylenes. She burst into tears and 
self-reproach. “It is my fault! I have 
killed you! You would not suffer so much 
if I had not brought upon you additional 
sorrow!” She hid her proud head in the 
purple draperies of the couch, her whole 
form convulsed by sobs. This lasted for 
some moments, when a caress, timid at first, 
then a little more marked, caused her to 
raise her head. 

“Do not weep so,” said Susanna. “It is 
not your fault. You did it for a good pur- 
pose, out of your heart’s kindness. She was 
calmer last night. We will save her.” 

Hiera, ashamed to be seen in tears, drew 
back haughtily, but the sympathetic man- 


‘ ‘THOU WIUT HAV^ MKRCY. ” 1 5 1 

ner of Susanna attracted the priestess of 
Isis in spite of herself. She arose without 
a word, struggling with her pride, but as 
she left the room, she turned and said, 
“Love me a little also.” 

Day after day, Mylenes raved and tossed 
in a burning fever. At last, it began to 
decrease almost imperceptibly, and then 
disappeared, leaving her a shadow of her 
former self, weak and still unconscious. 
Susanna feared the hour when the light of 
reason would shine in that sorrow-distracted 
mind, bringing, as it must, a sad realization 
of the desolation, the bereavement of that 
loving heart. She prayed that Christ 
would help her, would send her a portion 
of that infinite comfort which comes from 
Him alone. 

She had wholly deserted the little house 
by the sea, and had given up all her time 
to her dear, her sorely-tried friend. Ga- 
maliel came every day to see her, often 
accompanied by Helcea. The latter brought 
Susanna news of their apostleship, the bap- 
tism of the dying, the gathering together 
of little children whom they taught His 


152 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

religion of love. Susanna asked her prayers 
for the success of her own mission, so deli- 
cate and difficult. 

The dreaded hour came at last. ’Twas 
night and Susanna was sitting at the foot 
of Mylenes’ bed. Looking at the pale, 
drawn face of the sufferer, she saw the 
heavy-lidded eyes wearily turn towards her, 
then linger, arrested. The glassy, far-away 
look had vanished and pained, tearless 
consciousness slowly returned. 

“Susanna!” she called in a faint, yet 
distinct whisper. 

“Mylenes, dear Mylenes!” answered 
Susanna, kneeling beside her and taking 
her hands in a fond clasp. 

“Does he hear me still? Does he see me 
still?” she dreamily asked. 

“I know he sees you, my beloved sister.” 

“You know, Hiera also knew.” 

Mylenes felt a thrill of pain at the re- 
membrance of the failure of Glaucus, and 
then exerting all her strength in the effort, 
she gasped: 

“Who was with him when he fell?” 

“I was.” 


* ‘THOU WIUT HAVE MERCY. ” 1 53 

“You? You?” repeated Mylenes, amazed. 
“You saw him at the last? Why did you 
not send for me ? Was it all over suddenly? ’ ’ 

“No”, answered Susanna. “For a time 
he spoke^ God was with him at that blessed 
moment. He lulled him to rest as he was 
praying for you. I will tell you all a little 
later on, my beloved sister. I have kept it 
all in my heart. ’ ’ 

“Yes”, murmured Mylenes, struggling 
for breath, “I cannot bear to hear it now. 
Tell me only his last words — his very last 
words. ’ ’ 

Susanna folded to her breast the wounded 
heart, interiorly begging the help of God. 

“He prayed to Our Tord Jesus Christ, 
whom you love. He died in His faith. 
He confided you to Him. He went peace- 
fully to sleep, saying ‘Thou wilt have 
mercy’.” 

“He had no pity. He took him from 
me,” rebelliously said Mylenes. 

“Do not say He had no pity. He saved 
him, and through him. He will save you. 
He will give you His eternal joy. Mylenes, 
ofier Him your soul — that soul so lacerated 


154 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

now. No human power can comfort you 
Go to Him. He will solace you. 

“Continue”, whispered Mylenes, weep 
ing for the first time. 


CHAPTER XII. 
Hiera. 


Days and weeks elapsed. Consolation 
came slowly to the sorrowful soul of My- 
lenes. The cruel scene in the temple, 
which had shattered her passionate hopes, 
had wrenched her severely. She had be- 
come incredulous, almost embittered. Re- 
covery came with laggard steps, her weak- 
ness being extreme. When able to walk, 
she made pilgrimages to every nook and 
corner of her lovely home . She looked upon 
them now as sacred shrines of her vanished 
happiness, her ever-present misery. At 
times she would stroll to the garden, during 
the warm hours of the day, and sit under 
the trees, silent, motionless, gazing vacantly 
into space. At her request, Susanna seldom 
or never left her. 

Often Hiera came to visit them. Invari- 
ably, upon seeing and hearing Susanna, 
she would become restless and gloomy and, 
though listening attentively, she never 

(155) 


156 AFTKR THB ninth HOUR. 

asked any questions. On returning to her 
companions in the temple, she was more 
distant, more haughty than ever. To 
Glaucus, when he questioned her, she re- 
plied, that everything within and without 
her was “torment, the torment of a living 
lie’'. 

When Mylenes became a little stronger, 
she reverted to the circumstances of the 
death of Helos, and desired to know every 
detail. Until then, the sacred respect which 
Susanna had for the dead, and her sisterly 
love of Mylenes, had sealed her lips. In 
the previous conversation they had on the 
subject, Susanna had purposely refrained 
from mentioning the baptism of Helos. 
She thought it might influence Mylenes to 
make an impulsive ephemeral resolution, 
and this she did not desire. She resolved 
to utter those decisive words only when 
Mylenes had recovered fully, and should be 
able to calmly deliberate whether to accept 
the grace He had given to Helos and now 
extended to her, or refuse it. 

Motionless, her eyes closed, as if better 
to bear the pain caused by the recital. 


HIKRA. 


157 


Mylenes listened to Susanna, expecting that 
every word of that most harrowing tale 
would increase her suffering. On the con- 
trary, slowly, little by little, a divine sweet- 
ness was wafted to her, soothing her and 
imparting to her charming countenance an 
ideal expression of chastened sorrow. 

Hiera and Glaucus, coming through the 
foliage of the palms and sycamores, caught 
a glimpse of Mylenes and stood spell-bound. 
Glaucus came at the request of the priestess 
to hear the new doctrine. By a glance he 
forbade Hiera to make known their pres- 
ence. Susanna could not see them. She 
was turned towards Mylenes, absorbed in 
fulfilling her blessed mission. 

“So all is not ended ?’ ’ the widow of Helos 
was saying. 

“All is only beginning for you, dear. 
If Christ were near you, saying those words 
which comprise all, ‘Trust in me’, you 
would understand that this is not the true 
life, and you would weep no more.” 

“Susanna,” whispered Mylenes, “per- 
haps your God does not love me. I offended 
Him through fear, and afterwards, in the 


158 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

frenzy of my sorrow, I forsook Him for the 
idols. ’ ^ 

“But He has pardoned -all since you have 
returned to Him. ’ ’ 

“I believed in Him, nevertheless, I be- 
lieved in Him and I loved Him before this 
tempest of suffering carried ever3rthing 
away. Did I love Him more than Helos? 
No, I would not do that. ’ ’ 

‘Do not entertain thoughts unworthy of 
God,” implored Susanna. “He is Dove. 
He creates, inspires all human love. His 
Heart is the infinite receptacle into whose 
abysmal depths He calls the countless mil- 
lions of drops of living love, which we are. 
Barth passes; He remains. Your heart is 
frail even in that great love of which you 
speak. He is strong. Everything you trust 
to Him He will make eternal. Mylenes, 
dear little Mylenes, do not distrust that 
Heart. He now takes care of the heart of 
Helos, let Him take yoiurs in His divine 
protection.” 

A smile of ecstasy wreathed the lips of 
Mylenes. 

Susanna continued: “You do not know 


HIKRA. 


159 


Him yet. You do not know anything of 
His religion. I cannot tell you. But the 
merciful God is not far from you. Some day 
you will know how near He comes to His 
poor children. You believe Him good, you 
will then know that He is all good. You 
believe Him great, you will understand His 
Greatness in coming down to you and per- 
forming miracle after miracle. Now raise 
up your thoughts to His mysteries, wonders 
of inexpressible purity. ’ ’ 

Hiera gazed at Glaucus in the deepest 
emotion. 

“It is, perhaps, only a song,’* murmured 
the high -priest, “but what a beautiful 
one! ” 

“What can I do for your God?” asked 
Mylenes. “I will go to Him, as Helos did. 
I want to be with Helos. You will show 
me the way. I would like to invite every- 
one to come with me and follow Him. But 
will they believe ? How can they be taught 
to believe?” 

“That is God’s own secret,” answered 
Susanna. “Faith comes not by chance nor 
by mental effort. An attraction for God 


i6o 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


must exist in the heart and be followed by 
an act of free will. God is here, in our 
midst. He is everywhere, but we cannot 
see Him. He calls those who possess some- 
thing of His beauty, of His purity. His 
goodness; those who listen and respond to 
the Inner Voice, which is His Voice.” 

As Susanna’s gentle, inspired voice 
floated musically through the blossoming 
trees, the beautiful face of Hiera beamed 
with an almost supernatural light, her proud 
form drooped and quivered, as if throwing 
off a burden of hopeless perplexity, and then 
became erect and queenly in demeanor, as 
she gravely exclaimed: “He has called me 
and I come.” .... 

Oh! the unspeah;able happiness, the in- 
expressible bliss of the first Christians. 
Susanna, Mylenesand Hiera already seemed 
to be participating in the eternal joys of the 
Father’s mansion. 

Hiera now related to them her spiritual 
struggles and how faith finally dawned in 
her by studying Him in the actions of 
Susanna. 

Glaucus had followed the priestess and 


HIKRA. 


l6l 


Stood silently listening to Hiera’s narration. 
His mind was lightened of much of the 
melancholy doubt expressed to Hiera in the 
temple of Serapis, but his countenance now 
appeared hard, scornful and impassive. 
When Hiera had finished, he asked Su- 
sanna, “What of those who do not believe, 
who have deceived countless thousands of 
trusting human beings ? Those who know 
the emptiness of the so-called truths of the 
world, and yet will not learn the doctrine 
of your God? They are, of course, the 
castaways, the accursed?” — and paying no 
attention to Susanna’s timid gesture of dis- 
sent, he continued, “You can assert the 
claims of your new God, but I have mine. 
You speak of the things of yesterday. I 
have the confirmation of long centuries of 
old Egypt. Who will decide between your 
God and mine?” 

‘ ‘Yourself’ ’ , answered the priestess of Isis 
with agitation, “and the despairing cry of 
the dead ages you invoke, a cry which still 
reverberates down those ancient vaults filled 
with dead hopes and now resounds with 
agonizing distinctness in your heart and 
11 


i 62 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


mine. You hear the soul-torturing wail, 
and so do we. Listen to its plaintive ap- 
peal. What can your gods do for those 
who suffer ? What can your lying gods do 
for those who doubt ? What can your im- 
pure gods do for those who seek after puri- 
ty? What did they give, or what did you 
give in their name, to aid that broken 
heart, you whom I know to be kind and 
pitiful?” 

A trace of emotion showed itself in the 
face of the high-priest. He did not answer 
and Hiera continued: 

“You know as well as I, that your heaven 
is a dreary void, and the best proof of my 
assertion is that you made no personal 
sacrifice to attain it, or to show the pre- 
tended truth of your gods. ’ ’ 

“What did her God do for her, and what 
would she do for Him?” he said, pointing 
disdainfully at Mylenes. 

“Christ Jesus died for us and I would 
gladly give my life for Him!” said Susanna 
simply. “Brother, be not surprised at find- 
ing no learning or wisdom in my words. 
I am only an ignorant woman. But prayer 


HIERA. 


163 

can accomplish everything with the lyord’s 
assistance. I will pray for you, and if I am 
happy enough to die for Him, I will ask 
Him for your soul. He loves it.” 

“No”, bluntly replied Glaucus, “I do 
not want a new god. I have suffered too 
much from the gods of old. ’ ’ 

Gamaliel entered at this moment. My- 
lenes had a filial affection for the great doc- 
tor. He had loved Helos, and his love had 
been returned. Briefly Susanna acquainted 
her brother of the new converts to the faith 
she had made. He evinced no surprise. 
The triumph of God amongst all nations 
was now the aim of his existence. At the 
very doors of the Museum, the centre of the 
disorder and confusion of all human systems, 
he gathered around him and taught little 
children the eternal words. Passing from 
one apostleship to another, he was happy to 
confirm in Mylenes the comforting assur- 
ances of his sister. With paternal authority 
he was also pleased to instruct Hiera in the 
duties of the new life. They accordingly 
appointed time and place to meet for these 
purposes. 


164 AFTE^R THF NINTH HOUR. 

Glaucus Still lingered, a little apart from 
the others, sullen and perverse. Gamaliel 
knew that by a word from Glaucus, the 
people could be aroused against this little 
Christian band. Consequently, he ap- 
proached Glaucus and spoke to him in a 
calm and dignified manner, hoping to con- 
ciliate him: 

*‘Your reluctance to believe cannot be 
stronger than mine was,” he said in con- 
cluding. “Years were necessary to make 
me realize that my wisdom was vain. One 
word from Christ enlightened me more than 
all the efforts of a life of study.” 

Glaucus waved his hand towards the sea 
and said: 

“Do you see the vast ocean? You could 
much easier make sweet its salty waters 
than make a Christian of a priest of Isis. ’ ’ 

“Nevertheless, brother, some day you 
will believe in the One who died for man- 
kind and for whom men are ready to die,” 
said Susanna as if divinely inspired. 

Glaucus departed, his stalwart form bowed 
in deep reflection. They followed him with 
looks of affectionate compassion. When he 


HIKRA. 


165 

was gone, Susanna noticed that Gamaliel 
was sorely disturbed. She questioned him 
anxiously, and while he would have liked 
to keep the cause of his uneasiness secret, 
it was no longer possible to do so. He then 
told them that he had visited the Alabarch, 
and had learned from him that a storm of 
human passion was about to burst upon the 
city. 

Agrippa, the successor of Herod, had 
come to occupy his kingdom. He was in- 
duced to this action by the advice of his 
friend, the emperor Caligula. This advice 
was, indeed, in accord with his desire for 
an opportunity to exploit all the pomp and 
pride of his position. He had left Alexan- 
dria when a boy, a poor fugitive and exile. 
He had then dreamed of returning at some 
future day, the proclaimed king of this 
second city of the world, and astonishing 
its inhabitants by his grandeur and splendor. 
He foolishly imagined, that by parading 
himself arrayed in all the magnificence and 
luxury of an oriental king, his race, through 
him, qnce and for all time, would be amply 
revenged for its many persecutions at the 


i66 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


hands of the Alexandrians. Lest the pre- 
fect, Avilius Flaccus, who was old and 
feeble, through jealousy of his rising power, 
might give him an ordinary welcome and 
deny him the occasion of gratifying his love 
for ostentation, Agrippa arranged to come 
secretly at night, with his wife and daugh- 
ter, the famous Berenice, to the house of the 
Alabarch, and proceed thence the following 
day to the Prefect’s palace. 

Agrippa arrived as planned, and vainly 
Alexander Lysimacus implored him to 
abandon his proposed folly, which would, 
without doubt, be taken as a provocation, 
and fan into a flame the smouldering fires 
of persecution. The evils which would be 
visited upon his race as a result were as 
nothing to the pompous, selfish king, in 
comparison with the realization of his dream. 
Marcus, the son of the Alabarch, was in- 
fatuated with the fair Berenice and had 
been promised her hand by Agrippa. He 
was delighted at the prospect of seeing her 
in the triumphal procession, and encouraged 
her father, the king, to adhere to his origi- 
nal purpose. 


HIKRA. 


167 


Vanity and folly triumphed. Agrippa, 
clothed in purple, jewel-crowned, and sur- 
rounded by a large body of guards, whose 
golden shields sparkled in the sunlight, set 
out in regal procession to the palace of 
Avilius Flaccus. They had advanced but 
a short distance when the people, curious, 
astounded, began to gather, hostility, re- 
strained only by fear, plainly showing in 
their countenances. Soon the streets were 
densely thronged with a sullen, angry 
rabble. Suddenly, as if by magic, a name 
flew from tongue to tongue, and the crowd 
contemptuously shouted as one man “The 
king of the Jews”. His senses deadened to 
what was transpiring around him, absorbed 
in his imaginary triumph, Agrippa saw 
nothing, heard nothing. Alexander Tysi- 
macus, who accompanied him, saw at once 
the thinly veiled contempt, the hardly dis- 
guised derision now change into evident 
vindictive hatred, as he had previously 
predicted, and he shuddered at the grave 
danger which confronted not only them- 
selves, but the whole Jewish population 
within the walls of the city. 


i68 


AFTKR the: ninth HOUR. 


Without witnessing any further manifest 
demonstrations of relentless, pent-up enmity, 
they arrived at the palace of Avilius Flaccus. 
The prefect received them coldly, but with 
aM the honors due to royalty. He well knew 
that no one could displease great Caesar’s 
friend without suffering the severest penal- 
ties. He knew, moreover, that the mob 
would appease the wrath which he keenly 
felt. 

He was far from being mistaken. On the 
next day the Alexandrians organized a 
mock procession. They seized a miserable 
idiot, clothed him with a straw coat, placed 
in his hands a reed for a sceptre and led 
him to the gymnasium to offer him to the 
homage of the faithful, acclaiming him as 
“The King of the Jews’’. 

What a startling coincidence! What irony 
of Justice! What sacred events were thus 
recalled! He had been clothed as a mock 
king; He had been introduced by Pilate to 
the Roman populace in the words ‘ ‘ Behold 
the Man’’, while others saluted Him as 
“King of the Jews’’ . Was not this ridicule 
of the Jews, through their king, an act of 


HIERA. 


169 


God’s retribution for their hatred towards 
Him? What an awful chastisement was 
soon to befall this cruel, stiff-necked people! 

Cries of condemnation, timid at first, then 
bolder, owing to the complicity of the 
authorities, and finally, unutterably, fanat- 
ically frenzied, were now heard against the 
Jews. 

Gamaliel reported these events to the 
women, and in conclusion said: “We must 
be prepared for the worst. Agrippa’s im- 
prudence has opened the flood-gates of fury. 
Angry threats are heard on all sides. 
Avilius Flaccus envies our autonomy and 
our wealth. He covets that which greed 
and usury have given us, that which is to 
the lasting dishonor of our race. If his 
shrewdness finds a means of exasperating 
the mob against us while still pleasing and 
flattering the Emperor, we are lost. ’ ’ 

Susanna’s resolution was quickly formed. 
Hiera could not now return to the temple 
of Serapis and would therefore stay with 
Mylenes. She would go back with her 
brother and rejoin Philo, Helcea and Roxa- 
nes, who were in danger of the persecution. 


1 70 AFTKR the ninth HOUR. 

In vain, Mylenes besought her with tears, 
not to leave her, not to expose herself to 
the impending peril. Susanna remained 
steadfast. It was then decided that all 
future meetings of these first Christians 
would be held in the palace of Mylenes, it 
being less liable to suspicion and easily 
accessible from several quarters, and Su- 
sanna promised to visit her often with 
Gamaliel. 

“My mission with you is finished, sister,” 
said Susanna, kissing Mylenes for the last 
time. “Yours begins today with Hiera. 
We are like the couriers of old. The sacred 
torch has to be transmitted from hand to 
hand. Remember always, however, that 
Christians differ from those ancient mes- 
sengers in that they never allow the light 
to be extinguished. ’ ’ 

Affectionately bidding Hiera farewell, 
she spoke further words of hope and com- 
fort, and then the brave little soldier of 
Christ departed for the scene of struggle. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Caligula. 

Susanna and Gamaliel directed their steps 
to the house of the Alabarch, in the Jewish 
quarter. It was now the only safe place in 
that section. The doors were opened to 
them with the greatest precaution. Ser- 
vants were on guard at every entrance. 
Every possible measure for protection was 
adopted and rigidly enforced, as if a state 
of siege existed. 

The family of the Alabarch was as- 
sembled, with the exception of Marcus and 
Tiberius, who had followed in the train of 
Agrippa. Susanna and Gamaliel were wel- 
comed with transports of affection. It 
seemed almost impossible for misfortune to 
come to those living in such a sumptuous 
palace, and its anticipation vibrated strange- 
ly on their minds, but no good purpose 
would be served by concealing it, or neg- 
lecting to prepare for its coming. Alexander 

(171) 


172 AFTKR THE) NINTH HOUR. 

Lysimacus held Gamaliel in high esteem 
and confided to him all his fears. The lat- 
ter encouraged him in grave and calm 
words, and being a stranger in Alexandria, 
although renowned in Jerusalem, offered to 
intercede personally with the Prefect. 

Philo had ceased to spend his time in 
studies, and was now doing all in his power 
for his people. At every moment the eth- 
narchs, members of the Sanhedrim, had 
recourse to him. It was a hardship for 
Philo to be compelled to withdraw from his 
contemplative life. 

“And at a time,” he said to Gamaliel, 
“when my soul was irresistibly attracted by 
your sayings, which need uninterrupted 
solitude to carefully ponder and impartially 
weigh. Ah! my friend, I intended to lead 
you to my brethren, the Therapeutes, and 
to ask you questions before them, and when 
I had heard your answers, I might very 
likely have said ‘I am with you’. Now 
my soul is troubled, and I am with my 
people. ’ ’ 

Helcea and Roxanes drew aside with 
Susanna. “ Is this a time for idle chatting ? ’ ’ 


CAI.IGUI.A. 


173 


harshly exclaimed Sarah. “Should a 
daughter of Israel do anything, but ask for 
the wrath of the Eternal against the 
Amalekites?” 

Sarah, indignant and refusing to listen to 
their answers, left the young women to 
themselves. The daughters of the Alabarch 
were in the first fervor of their baptism, and 
were unmindful of outside happenings. 
The news of the conversion of Hiera and 
Mylenes made them exceedingly happy. 
After telling them of it, Susanna in- 
quired regarding the events of the last 
few days in the Jewish quarter. The 
report they gave her was indeed alarm- 
ing. Safety was impossible for the Jews 
outside of the Ghetto. The Sanhedrim had 
been called to the palace of Avilius Flaccus, 
and was there publicly insulted. In an 
edict the Prefect had called the Jews for- 
eigners. The effect of his language pre- 
cipitated the inevitable. 

Susanna arranged with her friends the 
course they were to pursue. It was agreed 
that in this crisis they would distribute their 
charities individually, and not in common 


174 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

as formerly, in order that they might avoid 
attention, and that they would meet at My- 
lenes’ house in the early hours of the night, 
bringing with them only the most trusted 
of their servants. 

“So long as you are here, I do not fear,” 
said Helcea. “You will strengthen me.” 

“Even if I be not here, do not fear, my 
little sister,” replied Susanna. “What is 
there for you to be afraid of in this world ? 
As the great apostle Paul says, ‘Can life, 
can death, separate us from the love of 
Jesus Christ?’ We have only to perform 
His work. ’ ’ 

“Do you know,” said Gamaliel, who now 
joined them, “that I have news of Peter? 
The brethren who have returned lately from 
Jerusalem spoke with him. They tell me 
that many Christians have been put to 
death. Peter has been in great danger and 
the whole Church prays that he may con- 
tinue to escape it.” 

“And what about the mother of Jesus?” 
asked Susanna. 

“She stays with John, always.” 

“How happy John must be!” she mur- 
mured. 


CAI.IGUI.A. 


175 


“Peter urges us to remain firm and united 
in Christ,” continued Gamaliel. “I have 
petitioned him to come to Alexandria. If 
he cannot come himself, he will at least 
send us his disciple, Mark.” 

‘ ‘ I would like very much to have seen 
Peter, our father and master in the faith,” 
said Susanna, with great fervor, “but if he 
sends us a fellow-laborer, then we can die. ’ ’ 

“Die?” exclaimed Helcea and Roxanes. 
“Why speak of dying? What can we do 
without you. ” 

In thought, Susanna was again in that 
garden blossoming with lilies, where the 
beloved Christ announced to her that He 
was to die. She felt again that mortal sad- 
ness which had then filled her soul. She 
still heard the words she spoke, the very 
ones which Helcea and Roxanes had just 
uttered, poor, weak words arising from 
hearts of flesh. She remembered with what 
sadness Christ had looked at her. She 
heard again the Voice, which revived in 
her all that was pure and good. She felt 
again the mysterious breath of that great, 
heroic, heavenly inspiration, which trans- 


iy6 AFTKR THK NINTH HOUR. 

ports US into entire forgetfulness of our- 
selves. Six years had passed since that 
ever memorable time, and she had done so 
little for Him, she was an unworthy ser- 
vant She really felt she had done 

nothing to deserve His divine approval. 
But she lived in His Light, that light of 
truth which had since guided her and to 
which she had consecrated her life. In 
His own words she answered Helcea and 
Roxanes. 

“What I tell you now, you do not under- 
stand, but you will hereafter.” 

In the following months of June and July, 
affairs became intolerable. The Jews were 
hunted like wild beasts. The dire predic- 
tions of the Alabarch were verified. Only 
a spark was necessary to enkindle a death- 
dealing conflagration. That spark was not 
long delayed. It generated in Rome shortly 
after and was flashed to Alexandria simul- 
taneously. 

One morning in this year 38, the Em- 
peror, Cajus Caligula, awoke with a new 
idea. This was not, however, the first evi- 
dence of his great genius. True, it indis- 


CALIGULA. 


177 


putably established the superior quality of 
his extraordinary mind, and served to throw 
light on its previous manifestations, chief 
among which was the investing of his horse, 
Incitatus, with the senatorial toga, sur- 
rounding him with lictors and guards, and 
assigning him a prominent part in the im- 
perial feasts. But now that brilliant intel- 
lect had evolved its crowning achievement, 
adducing the convincing testimony, if any 
were needed, of its supernatural powers. 
He discovered that he was a god. 

Ingeniously and philosophically he de- 
monstrated his simple belief: “Are shep- 
herds of the same nature as the sheep? 
Or are they oxen, or lambs ? Most assuredly 
not. Then why should the leader of the 
nation be of the same nature as the people?” 

All sycophantic Rome effusively cheered 
this iron, undeniable, unanswerable logic. 
Notwithstanding this flattering acceptance 
of his phenomenal theory, Cajus proceeded 
cautiously in his transmutation from a 
human to a divine being. 

His first appearance after the promulga- 
tion was as a heroic demigod. In the skin 
12 


178 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

of the Numean lion, bravely waving the 
club of Hercules, he strutted about in pub- 
lic, or, crowned with vine branches, he 
presented himself as Bacchus to the admir- 
ing gaze of the populace. 

Soon the hereditary stigma of humanity 
upon the demigods became repugnant to 
the divinity of Cajus, and they were rejected 
in derision and disdain. His transformation 
into a pure, unadulterated god, a god of 
high celestial degree, was now accom- 
plished, and Apollo, with bow and arrows, 
condescended a terrestrial visitation and 
during the sacrifices engaged in an appar- 
ently friendly conversation with the statue 
of Jupiter. Perhaps the stony reticence of 
the son of Saturn displeased his godship, 
or it may be he was actuated by a desire to 
exhibit to his servile subjects the impotency 
of the other deities and thereby conclusively 
prove his own transcendency, or perchance 
it was merely the inevitable result of super- 
natural growth. Be that as it may, the 
supreme evolution occurred, and Cajus ap- 
peared in the temple adorned with the gol- 
den beard of Zeus, amid the unearthly din 


CALIGUIvA. 


179 


and clatter of a large shower of stones 
thrown forth mechanically by a hidden 
machine. When the noise had subsided, 
and the assembled multitude had partially 
recovered from the startling effect of his 
entrance, the emperor-god, Zeus, majes- 
tically approached the statue of Jupiter, 
and tauntingly sneered, “Well, great Jove, 
where now is thy thunder?” 

These exhibitions were repeated daily, 
the Roman people attending them in vast 
numbers. Sacrifices innumerable of the 
rarest victims, Numidian lions and Arabian 
flamingoes, were offered before the new god, 
and incense burned continually at his altar. 
Insane with joy, Cajus ordered from Greece 
the most renowned statues of the gods, and 
causing them to be decapitated, surmounted 
them with effigies of his sacred head. 

Crazed by the worship already given him, 
yet longing for more adoration, long, sleep- 
less nights followed, during which he 
laboriously studied to devise other methods 
by which to debase mankind. Success 
finally crowned his insane efforts. An im- 
perial edict was issued that all subjects must 


i8o 


AFTER the ninth HOUR. 


abjectly bow before the new emperor- god, 
and any one refusing or neglecting to com- 
ply with the mandate, or who did not 
genuflect lowly enough or quickly enough , 
would be “sent to greet the manes of his 
ancestors” 

Many now refused to render this base, 
degrading homage. Cajus became wildly 
incensed, and the streets of Rome ran red 
with the blood of his victims. Tiberius, 
his young cousin. Macron, his teacher, and 
Silanus, his stepfather, being amongst the 
slain. Then the poniard of the tribune, 
Chereas, closed forever the earthly career 
of this inhuman monster. 

Tidings of this folly of the Emperor 
reached Alexandria in the month of August 
of that year 38. What an excellent occasion 
it presented to inflame the feelings of the 
people, already exasperated to madness 
against the Jews! Avilius Flaccus recog- 
nized immediately his opportunity and de- 
cided to take advantage of it. He knew 
very well that this despised race was world- 
renowned for its adherence to its faith and 
would refuse divine honors to the new god. 


CAI,IGUI<A. 


I8l 


He knew also that the addition of another 
god entailed no reproach to himself from 
his people, the people of the orient, who 
were far more degraded than the Romans. 
Henceforth Avilius Flaccus paid assiduous 
devotion to the sacred person of Caesar. 
He had now only to close his eyes and let 
affairs shape themselves. The people were 
quick to grasp the meaning hidden behind 
the indefatigable devotion of their prefect 
to Caligula as a god, and hardly was his 
first statue erected in the forum of Alexan- 
dria, when the mob of the city sent up the 
one cry: “Caligula to the proseukas!” — as 
the Jewish synagogues were called. 

At once, horrible scenes began. Statues 
of Cajus were dragged by a furious rabble 
to the Jewish places of worship, now de- 
serted, and there erected. Then hunted as 
by a pack of hounds, the unfortunate Jews 
were caught, driven like wild beasts to a 
certain quarter of the city, and there merci- 
lessly butchered. 

Philo, a witness of these frightful events 
and an advocate of his people not only at 
Rome, but before the whole world, gives us 


1 82 AFTER THE NINTH HOUR. 

a dreadful account of that awful period. 
Rapine and murder held unbridled sway in 
the city, the stakes set in the forum were 
never free from their human victims, and 
the corpses drawn on hurdles through the 
streets caused this poor deicidal people one 
paroxysm of fear after another. 

In the midst of the amphitheatre, thirty 
venerable old men, members of the San- 
hedrim, were scourged by slaves exempt 
from punishment, to the great delight of 
the spectators. In the calends of Septem- 
ber, the show-bills announced, day after 
day, among the list of attractions, for the 
birthday of Cajus, “Jews on the stage”. 
This part of the performance consisted of 
the hanging, beating and crucifying Qf 
members of that race, amid terrible tortures. 
Then the program was resumed, actors and 
buffoons beginning anew their jokes and 
dancing on a stage still damp and red with 
human blood. 

In this calamity, Susanna obeyed the in- 
junction of her loving Master, “Be all 
things unto all mankind”, exposing her life 
at every moment in her charitable work. 


CAI,IGUI.A. 


183 


She saved the lives of many, buried those 
she could not save, gave clothes and food 
to the distressed, never thinking of her per- 
sonal safety and knowing no fear. Withal, 
she found time and means to comfort her 
friends, Hiera, Mylenes, Helcea and 
Roxanes. The Alabarch, at the request of 
his daughters, permitted them to take re- 
fuge in the sheltered abode of Mylenes, a 
closed ark in this modern deluge. 

Vainly they besought Susanna to remain 
with them, but she could not desert the 
poor and suffering. The little Christian 
community expected her daily. The hour 
had come when Hiera and Mylenes and 
their friends, prepared by Gamaliel, were to 
be baptized and introduced into the blessed 
mystery of the Eucharist. On the evening 
preceding this day of grace, in the oratory 
of her little dwelling by the sea, Susanna, 
after the breaking of the bread, remained 
a long time in prayer. It was the last time, 
that alone with Gamaliel, she was to ap- 
proach the Saviour. Tomorrow she would 
have around her the sweet and happy con- 
quests of her apostleship, of which perhaps 


184 AFTKR THF NINTH HOUR. 

Mylenes was the dearest, Helcea and 
Roxanes, the flowers of Israel, and Hiera, 
the Egyptian beauty, snatched from the 
pagan idols. 

What did Susanna say to the Eord during 
this mystery and the silence which followed ? 
What thanksgiving did she offer and what 
petitions did she make? If the thought of 
reward entered her mind, what recompense 
did she ask for the heavy burden of exile? 
God keeps the secrets of the soul, but when 
she arose, Susanna looked upon those 
around with the gaze of one about to die. . . 


CHAPTER XIV. 


‘‘I believe.** 

Towards the evening of the following 
day, Susanna left the house of the Alabarch. 
She was accompanied by an old woman, her 
usual companion. It was almost dark. 
Susanna, in spite of her absorption in grave 
duties which she had in hand, stopped a 
moment to watch the sea, as it broke in 
magnificent billows against the wharves. 
On the surface of the waves, phosphorescent 
lights, distant and beautiful, were gleaming. 
The shadows gradually deepened, hiding 
every visible object, and soon there was 
only the sound of the waves, as they broke 
against the shore in sharp, despairing cries, 
or sank back moaning to the deep. This 
never ending song of the restless sea found 
an echo in her soul, and caused Susanna 
mentally to ask the question: “What, then, 
shall the next life be?” 

Pondering on the thoughts which this 
eternal query invariably brings in its train, 

(185) 


i86 


AFTKR the ninth HOUR. 


the maiden went her way to the center of 
the city. The birthday of Cajus was being 
celebrated, adding, if possible, to the dis- 
order and increasing the violence of the 
depraved mob. Yells, songs and cries were 
heard everywhere confusedly mingled. 

“Tet us go no further; they will kill us,” 
said the old Jewish woman. 

“We must go on,” answered Susanna. 
“Gamaliel and our friends expect us. 
This is a blessed day for them and for us. 
But if you wish, keep at a distance. We 
shall, perhaps, be less noticed.” 

“But you?” 

“I!” — and Susanna’s face beamed with 
that sweet smile, which gave it a childlike 
look. The woman stood and Susanna went 
forward, bravely and simply. 

Scarcely had she taken a hundred steps 
when she was surrounded by an angry 
crowd. This was not her first experience 
of the kind. On other similar occasions she 
escaped safely, owing to the connivance of 
some, or the diversion created by others. 
Now, however, the hostile circle closed in 
upon her with fiendish cries of exultation: 


“l BEI.IEVK.” 187 

“A Jewish girl! A Jewish girl! Away 
with her to the statue of Caligula!” 

Swept along by this living wave of malice 
and hate, Susanna arrived at a place where 
stood the statue of the Emperor. Torches 
were lighted, but in their fitful glare she 
did not see a friendly face. She was alone 
in that vast arena, alone before Caligula, 
surrounded by the vilest and lowest rabble. 
She made no attempt to escape; she knew 
it would be futile. Quietly she awaited 
developments. 

Did she know, did she realize what was 
about to happen? Did she see pressing 
about her the enemies of herself and of her 
race? Could she realize their cruel inten- 
tions ? And this foul image of the Emperor 
offered to her maidenly adoration, did she 
see in it the personification of all the vice, 
all the shame, all the degradation of the 
world ? Or, rather, as light before darkness, 
as day before night, did not the pure, 
radiant, divine image of Christ come before 
her eyes, dispelling the hideous spectacle? 
Yes. Knowing no evil, there was none for 
her to repulse; having no temptation, there 


i88 


AFTKR THF ninth HOUR. 


was none for her to conquer. Standing 
calm and gentle in that maddened throng, 
in a low voice she implored the I^ord for 
those and all the other sinners of the world, 
asking for them His divine pardon. 

A buffoon now emerged from the tur- 
bulent mass, and upon his appearance all 
became silent. Taking a position before 
the statue near Susanna, in the tones of the 
priests of Isis, he droned out one of the 
numberless hymns composed in honor of 
Caligula, the colossal murderer: 

“Fair Adolescent, 

Lovely amongst the sons of women, 

Chosen by Phtah and Noun, 

Son of the sun, beloved by Phtah, 

And nursed in the lap of Isis, 

Pride of the world ” 

with all that oriental lewdness could join 
to these sacrilegious flatteries. 

Finishing his chant, he handed to Su- 
sanna the symbolic incense. She refused 
it, without a word. 

A howling tempest of frantic yells and 
demoniacal curses greeted her action. — 
Then the maiden knew that she was to die. 
Within her a sweet, soothing silence reigned. 


“l BELIEVE). ” 


189 


In an instant she saw pass before her the 
whole of her short, sinless life. She made 
a fervent act of humility and of thanksgiv- 
ing. She had always kept herself so near 
to God that not one of His mysterious ways 
dismayed her. What He had done for her 
was always best; what He would do, would 
be right. Her intense craving was to give 
her life for Him, to die for Him as He had 
for her. Her deep desire was to love Him 
unto this perfection. She was so unworthy, 
she did not think He would grant this, her 
prayer. Now, that it was granted and she 
was about to die, her soul exulted. She 
only wondered how easy it was to go to Him 
by the dread way of death. 

“Sacrifice! Sacrifice!” the bloodthirsty 
mob shouted with insane fury. With hoarse, 
panting, threatening voices, like the fierce 
growls of famished wolves, the compact, 
hideous ring grew smaller. They had a 
victim now, their murderous hatred was to 
be appeased, there was no escaping their 
savage hands. 

There arose within her an ardent, over- 
powering desire to invoke upon these poor 


1 90 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

beguiled creatures as a last, a supreme 
blessing, the Name Paramount, and rap- 
turously smiling at her Invisible Friend, 
she closed her eyes, her face pale, tranquil 
and spiritual, and pronounced in a clear, 
firm voice the Name for which she was 
about to die: “Jesus Christ” . 

The madmen rushed upon her with tri- 
umphant, ferocious cries. One stroke of a 
cowardly dagger laid her at the feet of the 
ravenous villains. But their infernal hatred 
was not yet satiated. Those inhuman mon- 
sters, whose lightest touch was a vile con- 
tamination to that immaculate body, must 
bind and carry her through the streets of 
the city as a trophy, and then dishonor her 
even in death. 

Suddenly a great commotion swayed the 
brutal mob, and they dispersed in all direc- 
tions. The highpriest, Glaucus, was ap- 
proaching. Imperiously and contemptuous- 
ly he called to the people. He knew that 
these gatherings, during these hours of mad 
folly, were always marked by some new 
abomination. In loud, clear, ringing tones 
he predicted the anger of Isis and the re- 


“I BKLIKVE.” 


19I 

sultant, frightful plagues that were about to 
befall them. Awed, fear-stricken, trembling 
with excessive superstition, like a flock of 
ravens, they fled into the deep, encircling 
gloom. 

In the faint light of the stars, Glaucus 
saw before the statue of Caligula the body 
of a woman, lying motionless and out- 
stretched. Instantly he realized the hor- 
rible truth. Bending over the corpse bathed 
in blood, he uttered a cry of pity and in- 
dignation upon recognizing Susanna. 

He gazed at her for a long time. A gleam 
as of ecstasy lighted up her pure face, a 
happy smile was on her lips. Perhaps a 
spark of life still faintly glowed. Glaucus 
breathlessly listened and watched for a 
beating of the heart, a throb of life. All 
was over. He had come too late. 

He was now alone with the martyr- 
maiden. What was he to do? He could 
not leave her there. Should he summon 
assistance ? Where should he take her ? — 
After a few moments of doubt, he knelt 
down near her. Respectfully, sorrowfully, 
he crossed the small, cold hands on her 


192 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

breast. Slowly and solemnly, as though 
performing a sacred rite, he wrapped her in 
her long robes. He lifted her in his arms 
and started for the palace of Mylenes. As 
he went along, he thought of the poignant 
grief with which he would be received, and 
it prompted him to ask himself why men 
were so cruel; why Susanna chose to die in 
such a manner, when by a word, a gesture, 
she could have saved herself. 

It was a night when nature itself seemed 
in an agony. The wind wailed in profound 
melancholy, and dark and heavy clouds 
obscured the heavens. The rays of the 
moon, white and cold, shone intermittently 
through small rifts in the quickly moving 
clouds, and surrounded with mystic bright- 
ness the priest of Isis and the maid in her 
death-sleep. The eyes of Susanna, still 
open, seemed to look fixedly at him, and 
to pierce to the very depths of his obscured 
soul. Trembling under the gaze of one 
beyond the grave, he felt a mortal chill 
born neither of fear nor of superstition, but 
as of a cold and heavy weight oppressing 
his heart. 


I BKLIKVK. 


193 


< ( 


> ) 


But what a strange coincidence! He was 
following the very route, which a, few 
months ago he had taken on the festal day, 
in the procession of Isis, when accompanied 
by the mysts and the priests, and amidst 
the cheering of the multitude, he had borne 
the water of the Nile in the sacred ewer. 

Now the silence was intense and night 
hung leaden over all. He did not know 
why he liked this silence and this darkness 
better than he did the applause and sun- 
light of that day of the triumph of his gods. 
His soul, then as now, was sorrowful, so 
sad, that he envied the condition of the 
meanest of his slaves. The recollections of 
his life seemed to arise from the grave of 
the dead years and crush him under a 
weight of bitter anguish. The outward 
storm was tragically reflected in his soul. 
Tike the vast waves which rolled in from 
the angry sea and beat and struck against 
the shore, until conquering they submerged 
it, so the waves of regret, of revolt and of 
shame arose in his indignant heart, and 
buffeting on the adamantine wall of pagan 
doubt, they finally swept it away and 
13 


194 AFTER the ninth HOUR. 

drowned the lamentable past. Nothing now 
seemed real or true but the present. He 
felt that he held in his arms no image of a 
lying divinity, but a being who had believed 
and had loved, and had died for her faith 
and her love. 

What a divine light emanated from this 
slight, dead form, and shone upon him! 
His old Egyptian priesthood was abandoned 
forever, and for the first time it seemed as 
if he was acting as a true priest and offer- 
ing a spotless host to the Eord all-powerful. 

Beholding her in the mystery of the great, 
everlasting sleep, he elevated her with a 
sacerdotal gesture towards the God to whom 
she had in life offered herself. Already he 
mentally despised and rejected his former 
oblations as insufiicient and unworthy. 

This interior light increasing, he united 
himself to this sacrifice, and with himself 
the soul of old Egypt, offering propitiation 
for his own errors and the crimes of his 
people, whose lewd songs even now reached 
him on the whirlwind of the storm. 

But how perplexing, how mysterious it 
was that this soil, to which Susanna brought 


“l BKI.IEVK.” 


195 


her faith, was to drink her blood, drop by 
drop, in a pure aspersion? Never had 
priestly hands, Glaucus thought, in a 
priesthood of over a thousand years, been 
consecrated by such an offering, the volun- 
tary oblation to a God, who had loved and 
was loved unto death. 

Oh ! those last words Susanna had spoken 
to him! They now returned vividly to his 
mind, haunting him with their profound 
reality. Here, in his arms he held their 
decisive proof. But had Susanna gone so 
far, that human reason could not follow 
her? Was it true that now, at this moment, 
she was in loving converse with her God? 
Was she praying for him? Was it because 
God was coming to him, that he was seized 
with such a holy fear? Was He truly com- 
ing to him? Was He transplanting him 
from the old ground, where he had been 
so firmly rooted? Was He drawing him to 
Himself ? The high-priest tried to banish 
these suggestions from his mind, to fly from 
himself so that he could not think or see. 

But the light from on high shone still 
stronger within him, notwithstanding his 


196 AFTKR THF ninth HOUR. 

efforts. He felt himself overcome in the 
unequal struggle. Relentlessly the truth 
appeared to him. There was, then, such 
a faith, since one could die for it. There 
must also be a bliss eternal, since this 
blessed maiden could smile, even in death. 
There must then be a God, since He could 
attract a frail creature, divert her mind 
from the joys of life, from its impure fasci- 
nations, from the anxiety and deception of 
doubt, and place her in His inaccessible 
light, in His love and in His peace! 

Glaucus then compared what the idols 
had done for him, and what God had done 
for her, — he, the priest of Isis, and she, the 
martyr of Christ. The contrast loosened, 
and set at liberty in the memory of the 
high-priest, a leaping, unrestrainable tor- 
rent of shame and sorrow, and the parched 
fountain of his heart burst forth in blessed 
tears. He wept. 

He had now reached the threshold of the 
palace of Mylenes. A sudden strong gust 
of wind separated the clouds. The pure, 
white light of the moon enveloped Glaucus 
in a serene splendor. He stood a moment 


“I BKI^IEVE.” 


197 


motionless, lost in ineffable contemplation. 
Feeling himself unworthy to speak to God, 
he bent low to the face of the dead maiden, 
and said: 


“I BEFIKVE.” 


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